A New Destiny
by Lucien-LaLAME
Summary: Carciniea is forced to return to the world of Nirn with a new destiny in mind: She is to save the Dark Brotherhood once more, her guide Lucien Lachance as her right wing, and a surprise in store. What she realizes is that history is almost repeating itself, this time she has to make a choice in living up to her duties or abandoning it all once more.
1. Alive Again

A simple young traveller came traveling alone the stone road, finally coming into a great view of the Whiterun hold: Dragonsreach, sitting as marvelously as it always have. She smiled as a small gasp emitted from her lips; her eyes didn't stick to it long as what looked like a portal opened up a few meters in front of her.

"_I live... Again_."

She drew her ebony dagger, readying herself for what this strange, random encounter could launch at her. The man raised a hand, slowly bringing it down as he slowly murmured, "Sleep."

Her vision was starting to blur and, against her persistence, she fell to the the hard ground before she had the chance to slash at him. She watched him approach, closer and closer... Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, falling into darkness.

He smirked, standing over the now unconscious girl. "Puny," he muttered, leaning over. He inhaled deeply, a light blue gas slowly emitting from her mouth and nose. He soaked up the last of this light, blowing a dark vermillion color entering every crease and hole it could find. Once it had finally consumed her, her body slowly began convulsing. There were gasping sounds, her limbs and neck turning and twisting in almost inhumane ways. Then, as if nothing had happened at all, she simply laid there.

The girl's eyes snapped open as she shot straight up, gasping for air as her eyes looked around to get a hold of her settings.

"I... I..."

"Alive," he simply said, offering a translucent hand.

She looked up to him, her eyes transferring into a look of horror and anger.

"_YOU!_"

"Yes, yes me. It's nice to see you alive and fresh, too Carciniea."

She made a face, "Alive? I just died in my bed, you and everyone else were there... I can't be alive."

"Oh, you've died. You have served your time in the Void, but now the Dread Father has called a second life to you so you may serve and save the Dark Brotherhood once more. Think of me as... Your guardian angel, in a way."

"Lucien Lachance, a guardian angel? Might as well let the world come to an end."

"If you are done," he turned his back to her, "The Dread Father has given us work, and there is still much to be done. This is only the start."

She hopped to her feet, sheathing her small dagger. She began her way to the large city, noticing a carriage containing a couple passengers come into view. At first, she didn't seem to take too much note of this until she heard, "Need a ride?"

She began to fumble for the right words, glancing to the man, Lucien, and the passengers. "I- I, uh..."

"Tell him you need to get to Riften and it's urgent," Lucien told her.

"Why is it urgent?... Ugh, fine," she turned to the carriage man who now looked very confused, "I, well, need a ride to Riften, if it isn't too much."

"These people are heading to Shor's Stone, so maybe I can drop you off there? Only charge ye 20."

"I suppose," she mumbled, pulling out whatever coin was in her pockets, "Three, four five... Eighteen, nineteen, twenty." She handed the man the small gold coins, climbing into the carriage.

The whole trip consisted of Carciniea checking out the view of this new, unfamiliar territory with the addition of the intense silence coming from the other passengers. Along the road, she saw a few men clad in strange armor, while one man begrudgingly followed behind while his hands were bound together.

"What happened to him?" She asked.

"You haven't heard? They're cleaning up the last of these damned Stormcloak rebels. Bout time this cursed war ended."

"Man, I missed a lot didn't I?" She whispered to Lucien, not wanting to draw too much attention.

"Much more than you could imagine. Times have changed, and so has civilization. Once we get to Riften, your destiny begins."

She kicked back, peering over the rails as she slowly waited for them to meet their destination.

"Carciniea," she heard Lucien's voice snap at her.

She jumped, her head aching as she realized she somehow drew attention to herself. "Sorry? Yes?" She sat up, stretching her arms, "I'm up, I'm up..."

"Finally," sighed the carriage man, "We're here."

"Oh... Oh, yes, right," she nodded her head, slowly climbing out of the carriage, "Thank you for your business."

She waved once more, hopping down. She rubbed her eyes, feeling as if it was her first chance at sleep in a long time. Lucien's arrogant smile wavered, slowly turning into a frown of disproval. She rolled her eyes at this, swearing in her mind. They began the small journey south to Riften.

"You have a few questions to answer, Mr. Lachance."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, 'oh'. First things first, would you kindly explain to me why Sithis just can't get someone else to do it? Like, I don't know, someone who never died?"

"I believe in past events, you and the Night Mother have not exactly seen eye to eye-"

"In the seventy-something years I've spent in Cyrodiil, I have only engaged on versatile with that wench two times. I never fulfilled my duties, I returned to the Sanctuary so I kick Arquen's ass again, and my kids never heard me so much /breath/ about the Brotherhood. It's pretty damn clear that I don't just meet eyes with her. I resent that, _that-"_

"Bite your tongue, Listener," he snapped. The sudden tension in his deep voice almost made her jump. He let out a deep sigh, calming himself, "Think of this little journey as... A fresh start between the two of you."

If this is going to give me some sort of stupid moral lesson, I swear to the Void..." She sighed, "Next question: What am I even here for?"

"To join the family once more."

"Oh, oh lovely..." She groaned, "That's... That's just lovely. I've proven my worth, zoomed through the ranks as if it was nothing, kill the Traitor - which I _really_ did not want to do, despite his crime - and now, now I have to join up again?"

"Minimum sarcasm would be greatly appreciated, Listener."

The two approached the city gates, eyeing Lucien as she went through the wide wooden doors. "We'll settle this later," she scoffed. She poked her nose up in the air as she folded her arms, unaware of the strange looks the city's guards offered her.

"Advice for the future," Lucien tried to hide his taunting smirk, "My presence is limited to you. In other words, try to refrain from continuing any conversation we may have in the public's eyes. They may take you for a madwoman."

Carciniea rolled her eyes to this, slumping her shoulders as she grumbled insensitive words inside her mind. The few people that realized the fresh face in the slummy excuse of a city took notice of this, whispering to her things about this faction called the Thieves Guild. She didn't listen to this, however, since thievery was never much of an interest of her's. There was no fun and no honor, unless it involved killing a thief.

"I do love Riften," she heard Lucien reminisce, "I journeyed here in my youth. A thief took my purse... so I took his eyes. It was a fair exchange."

She couldn't help but let out a smile, wondering if Lucien ever had a purpose or a hobby that didn't involve killing. She wondered if his new life in the Void changed him from starting rumors into simply spreading him. She noted in her head to bring it up later, concealing a smile at the thought of his reaction.

"Listener," he spoke hesitantly, "Focus. Our target is on an elderly caretaker to the Honorhall Orphanage. This should be enough to put things in motion. The Brotherhood now is much pickier than in our time..."

"Honorhall? Where am I suppose to find that?" She said to herself, eyes looking around until she noticed a small little building that read 'Honorhall Orphanage' on the front, she muttered to herself, "I knew that..."

She hung around the side of the building, wanting some information and privacy before she went and made a fool of herself. She leaned against the wall, trying to look busy as she turned to Lucien, "Okay, who am I after and why?"

"An old, feeble woman that goes by the name Grelod the Kind. She runs the orphanage and banned anyone to adopt the children. A young boy by the name Aventus Aretino had arrived here, then soon enough ran away to his former home. He performed the Black Sacrament, trying to contact the Brotherhood-

"Then that's where I come in."

He pointed his finger to his nose, "Exactly. That's your most likely way of getting in."

"Most likely?"

"Almost foolproof. Trust me Listener, I am to guide you through this."

She rubbed her arms, the chilly night catching her. Skyrim was a cold province, one she was certainly not used to. "You haven't really told me what exactly you're guiding me through."

He only laughed as his response, which helped making some of the thin hairs of her neck stand straight. The night was starting to peek through, she could hear vague yelling through the walls, followed by a door slamming shut. This must've been her cue, guessing this was the Grelod she heard about. She climbed over the tall stone wall, perching herself on top as she saw the old man mumble to herself, not even noticing Carciniea yet.

"Grelod the Kind," she announced, the older Nord jumped at the sound, "My, my. Aventus sends his condolences."

"Condolences? What in the name of Oblivion are you on about? I ain't done nothing, not get before I call the guards."

Carciniea leapt off the wall, into the shadowy shrubbery where she couldn't be found. The older woman didn't seemed unnerved by her, instead shrugging her shoulders and turning to the door. She took out the dagger the previously had, deciding to put some use to it. She leapt out, forcing Grelod against the dagger as it poked through the feeble woman's stomach. She coughed before slumping.

Carciniea was quite proud despite the easy kill, the sight and smell of blood had given her a satisfactory smile. She pushed Grelod off the dagger, wiping it on her pants. The sight of the sudden death enthralled her, sending a wave of nostalgia through her.

"You miss the kill," she heard Lucien laugh, pride in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah..." She looked to him nodding, climbing over the wall. As she fell on the other side, she could hear the door open with a young, feminine voice speaking, "The children ar-" The rest of her sentence was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream. The two snickered and giggled as they ran off, finding a small little graveyard near a temple. She rested on the ground, more than use to sleeping in such a strange, creepy place.

"So, that was done. What do we do now?" Carciniea, rested her head on her arm, looking up to the still standing Lucien.

"Patience, my Listener. We just need to wait. Tomorrow we head north to the Eastmarch hold. Provided if they haven't tracked you, already."

"They can't be that fast-"

"Don't be so sure. Remember when we met, it was only a few hours after your little duel," he smirked, "I remember that night so clearly, thinking now. You slept as if you had never done a single thing wrong." He laughed. "Such deception..."

"Yeah, yeah," she snorted, "Please, those were the times of my life. Every night with Ocheeva and Teinava, those small contract-dates with Mathieu..." She noticed Lucien grimacing and began to ball his fist, her voice dropping immediately.

She turned away from him, her vision blurring as she soon felt the vague, yet familiar feeling of slumber approaching. She felt a ghostly hand brush her face, hearing her old friend whisper, "Sleep, sleep while you can. Tomorrow is a new day with a new life to be taken. A step closer to filling your destiny..."

She tried to keep her eyes open, seeing something in the shadows move. Something kept her from speaking, though, as if she no longer had the power to speak or warn her friend. Her eyes fell with heavy reluctance, her paranoia being sedated as she soon felt herself dream.

The next morning, she was more than surprised to wake up still in Riften, no kidnapping nor any strange intrusions as she slept. Lucien was still with her, which made her feel that much safer.

"You are awake," he said in a low voice, noticing her opened eyes, "That is good. We have a new destination: Windhelm, just north of here."

"Who makes these names? Gods," she groaned, climbing to her feet. As she made her way out of the slummy city, her hand "accidentally" slipping into people's pockets every now and then with the reward of a few shiny coins for the ride.

Outside the stables, she laid the coins on the bench that carriage man sat on, going around to climb on. "Windhelm," she stated, not bothering for him to proceed with his question. The trip was going to be long, she already knew. She rested her head on the back on the wagon, closing her eyes.

She zoned out for the rest of the time, though she wasn't actually sleeping. She could feel them approach the city as the roads became more busy with travelers, the air slowly growing colder and crisper, and the distant sound of horses. She jumped as they came to an abrupt stop, knocking her off the bench she sat on. She could hear Lucien reminisce to himself, taking in the sight of the old city, "Such a wonderful city. White as bane, cold as the Void."

She rubbed her cold arms as she planted herself in the snow. She walked up the stone steps, crossing the old, grand bridge. "Okay," she breathed, feeling her nose turn a light pink, "Where do we find this Aretino boy again?"

"That, my Listener, is up to you. You can't rely on me for everything," he chuckled, his ghostly figure disappearing back into the Void as she entered the city.

"Okay," she growled to herself, feeling the cold violently nip at her face, "Note to self: Lucien can't be trusted for shit."

She rubbed her arms once more, embracing the striking cold as she pulled one guard to the side.

"Sir, could you spare a moment?" This had captured his attention, though cueing him with a making reply. "Let me guess, someone stole your sweetroll?" This had irritated her, but she didn't let it show. "Actually, I'm looking for an Aventus Aretino?" The guard's face paled, his eyes slowly widening with confusion and slight anger. She quickly added, "I'm with the Orphanage, you see. I-" "Say no more. If you really are, take him. He's bringing an evil into this city. He's over yonder," he pointed to a general direction to the right.

She kindly nodded, trying to blend in with the crowd of people in the quaint neighborhood. At one part she heard a Dunmer and small Nord boy talking, mentioning Aventus - this had captured her attention. She guessed the house was the boy's residence, lock picking her way in when the coast was clear.

"Grelod, you old crone! You'll get what you deserve..." She heard a young, tired voice as she entered the residence. This must be Aventus Aretino. "Please, how much long must I keep doing this? I keep praying, but nobody's coming."

She tried to crane her neck to get a small glance, accidentally stumbling over a small basket with a letter inside. She quickly scanned the letter, a feeling of pain stabbing her in the heart. This was the letter given to him before he left to Riften.

She stood through the doorway, surprised he hadn't noticed her yet. She could see from the corner of her eye a familiar blue light as Lucien reformed once more.

"Pity, isn't it?" There was mockery in his voice. She ignored him, sitting herself next to the boy.

Aventus' eyes widened with a warm joy, one she saw once before. "You came! I knew you would!" He hugged her tightly, Carciniea having little choice but to hug back. She couldn't help but ask, "Are you alright?"

"I am now! Finally, the Dark Brotherhood assassin comes and saves the day! I knew you'd come!" He laughed. She remained silent, seeing the jubilant youth bringing back memories. "You don't have to say anything. You probably want to get to business, don't ya? To fill your contract?" She nodded. "You know, you remind me of my mom before she... Before I was all alone. Before I was sent to that terrible orphanage with that cruel headmistress..."

Carciniea's head turned back to Lucien, who still wore a mocking smile. She turned back to the boy, "Ah, yes, Grelod... It turns out, I already killed her."

"Really? This is the best news I've ever gotten! I know you guys are good, but this good? No way!" He laughed once more, before scurrying into the next room, going through some old baskets, "Here, it's a family heirloom. Should be pretty valuable."

Carciniea looked at the plate, then to the boy. She handed it back, pulling the child into one more hug. She patted him on the head, quietly getting up to leave.

"A bit emotional back there, were we?" She heard Lucien comment as she quietly climbed down the steps back into the cold air. There, she let out a long sigh, murmuring, "He reminded me of my kids, actually. Broke my heart seeing him..." She rubbed her eyes, heading out to the Candlehearth Hall.

There, standing right outside the door, she felt an unimaginable amount of pain in the back of her head. She tried calling for Lucien, who seemed to have disappeared once more. She leaned herself against the door, fumbling for her weapon, when another strike hit and she fell to the cold floor, everything turning to black.


	2. Back into the Brotherhood's Arms

Laughter rang through her mind and ears, the sound of laughter that made her feel like drowning in the pool of her own sanity. The laughter of madness, holding her down as it rang throughout her conscious. She couldn't see, nor smell, nor taste. She could do nothing but feel suffocated and listen to the piercing sound.

There was a dim light in the pool of darkness, slowly growing brighter. She felt her eyes roll open, the room slowly moving to and fro. She slowly pushed herself up, sitting herself up despite most of her weight being applied to her arm.

"Sleep well?" Asked an unfamiliar voice.

This alone managed to wake her up, her eyes widening as they darted to the closest corner of the room: a woman, whom sat upon a cabinet with one leg slowly waving back and forth.

"Wherrem I?" She asked, her speech slightly slurred as she was still trying to wake the rest of herself up. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing Lucien was nowhere to be seen. She was on her own.

"It doesn't matter. You're dry, rested, safe. You're even still alive, unlike poor Grelod..."

The woman chuckled to herself, her head rolling back as she realized where and who she was with. "I see, now. It makes sense now," she smiled, though it was suppose to remain a thought.

"Don't misunderstand, I'm not criticizing," the woman said defensively, shifting herself in her seat, "The old hag had it coming, despite that little incident being a small... Problem."

Carciniea's eyes narrowed, pursing her lips as she let the woman continue.

"That little boy ? He was looking for me and my crew. You took from us, something not exactly in material: a kill. A kill that must be repaid-"

"You want me to murder some," she guessed, though she couldn't say she was disappointed. She couldn't remember feeling a kill just as thrilling as that, it had felt too long since her last murder...

"Right on the spot. Behind you are three little guests I have collected along with you. This is where it gets fun, you see. One of them has a contract set on one of them... But who could it be?" Her laugh echoed through the battered and filthy room, "Make your kill, and make it good... I am only here to observe."

Carciniea didn't spend another second trying to get anymore information out. She turned to the three people, immediately identifying the two Nords and the Khajit. They tried speaking to her; one tried to threaten her, another one begging to let them go. This didn't phase her, however, instead irritating her by making it hard to think.

The Khajit and Nord man were both easy targets, though the woman had a likely chance as well. She rubbed her temples, trying to think straight. She wished Lucien was here to help or at least help narrow things down for her. She thought back on all the training and advice she received from him.

"Erase all possibilities," she whispered, "Erase all possibilities of witnesses once you finish the contract."

She slipped out her ebony dagger, smirking as she met eyes with the woman. She planted the dagger through the throat of the elderly woman, coughing as blood began to trickle down her dress. The woman slumped forward, the dagger left in her windpipe for the moment.

She moved to the warrior, who was sure he was free to leave. He began laughing, which echoed through the room. She placed her hands on both sides of his face, twisting and snapping it in one quick motion. Her smirk widened into a grin.

She made her way to the Khajit, snatching the dagger from the woman's neck. The Khajit was already aware of where his fate lied, cursing at Carciniea. She raised the knife up high, over the feline's head, bringing it straight down into his skull. There was a sharp crunching sound, she left it there for a solid minute before slowly sliding it out.

"My, my," said the woman, "You have a really knack for death, hm? Three possibilities, three victims. Must have been one of them, right? So why take chances..."

"I'd like to thank an old friend for teaching me a thing or two," Carciniea chuckled.

"Then I think we can take this to a new level," the woman declared, tossing her the key to the abandoned shack. "In the southwest region, inside the Pine Forest there will be a door. The Black Door. To gain entrance you'd need to answer the question correctly - the answer being 'Silence, my brother'. Don't disappoint me, now. We'll be waiting."

She saw this as her cue to leave, running off into the marshy night. /p

Lucky for her she found a town not too far from the shack. She purchased a room, taking the privacy she had to relax without disturbance. She inspected her new body, a task she was surprised she had yet to do. Nonetheless, she was not disappointed with Lucien's choice of body. She only hoped it was as acrobatic as her old one when she was still a lively youth.

"You did marvelous," spoke the deep, ghostly whisper belonging to Lucien Lachance.

She didn't jump nor seem affected by it in the slightest. "About time you show your face," she snapped, "While I was left all alone with gods know what-"

"I can not always be there," he folded his arms, "But that does not change how well you did."

She gave him a quick glance before turning away, "I was following advice you gave me..."

"And you performed it well," he stepped in front of her. "Complimenting aside, we need to focus. We need to get to that Sanctuary."

She sighed, sitting down on the bed, "Where were we suppose to go again? I remember something about a Pine Forest, but it's not like I have a map or anything."

"Then let me guide you, sister."

The door flew open with a flick of his wrist, Lucien walking out without waiting any confirmation from Carciniea. She sighed as she hopped to his feet, groaning under her breath, "The nerve of that man..."

The journey was a more straightforward one: They mainly headed south, taking the whole night before they found a more warm climate. Dawn was beginning to break through the dark sky, though she didn't see other than the slight pink hue in the sky. Even then, it was difficult to see through the thick trees. Her and Lucien had taken a break on their trip, giving Carciniea a few minutes to rest and catch her breath.

"We are close. I can almost taste," Lucien breathed, leaning against one of the thick oak trees. Carciniea sat on a stump, rubbing her eyes. She didn't talk much on this trip from a strange exhaustion that never seemed to leave her, only coming back more powerful than the rest.

She felt the hairs on her back began to stand as she heard a faint growl. She slowly turned her head, careful not to make any sudden moves; from the corner of her eye she could see two glowing, animalistic eyes. She didn't care to find out what it was, only jumping without warning and sprinting off and away. She could hear its howl as she jumped over a tree log, almost tripping and stumbling. She caught herself in time, not daring look behind her in fear that the beast was closer than she wished.

She saw rocks forming a small cliff, taking the chance as she leapt off. Lucky for her, she landed in a dark-colored pool not too far. She felt her vision began to go in and out, jumping back up to her feet as she looked for the beast to show itself. Out of the corner of her eye, on the other hand, she saw a familiar red glow.

"Not to worry, it is gone," Lucien spoke, "But lucky it came, or we may not have found it."

She didn't respond, her gaze and body slowly drawing closer to what she recognized to be the Black Door. She pressed herself onto her tip toes, one arm slowly extending the red hand that emitted a strange glow.

"What is the music of life?" She heard it ask in that familiar, unearthly whisper.

She bit her lip, hearing Lucien make yet another remark about the Door itself. She retracted her hand, responding with the phrase she was instructed to use: "Silence, my brother."

"Welcome home."

The door let out a large clunking sound, eerily opening by itself. She didn't move, but stood with hesitance. She forgot about the strange beast, the woman from the abandoned shack, even her precious 'destiny'. There was something about this sanctuary that didn't feel right... That didn't feel at home.

"Listener, do not be so distressed," Lucien tried to comfort her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "With friends like these, you will never go wrong." There was something ominous in his laugh.


	3. Home Sweet Home

She climbed down the dimly lit steps, not bothering to look over shoulder. She knew Lucien had dissipated once more, but this time she figured he could let her handle the situation. Having some privacy was nice, though the empty feeling of loneliness still managed to fill her stomach.

She noticed the tapestries that bore the symbol of the Black Hand, sending her into a bittersweet wave of nostalgia. She could feel the ends of her smile curling into a half smile. She came into a large room, decorated with a Nord woman leaning against a wall.

"Ah, nice to see you home. I hope you find the place comforting," she smirked, taking notice of her.

"You got me," Carciniea proclaimed, folding her arms, "Where do I go from here?"

"You start your new life with the Dark Brotherhood, of course. You're part of a family here in the sanctuary, after all. Get comfortable, make friends, for you are welcome here."

Carciniea stayed quiet, not entirely trusting this leader. There was something that she was hiding and that made her weary of the woman's intentions. The tension slowly grew as their eyes battled against one another.

"The silent type... Suits you well. Gives you a mysterious aura, something that I happen to like a lot." She laughed, pushing herself off the wall to balance on her own.

Carciniea tried to suppress a lazy roll of her eyes.

She straightened herself, Carciniea silently hoping she got the hint, "Now, down to business. I'm in the middle of arranging a job for you so there's not really much I myself can give you. Talk to Nazir in the meantime, he should have some contracts to tide you over. The Night Mother will arrive soon, then things should get very interesting."

She turned to leave, giving Carciniea the privacy to cringe at the mention of the Night Mother. She was ready to finally breath easy without a tense silence hanging over her head.

"Oh, I almost forgot-"

Carciniea released a string of swears in her head, emitting a low grunt. She was hit with a nicely folded piece of familiar armor, followed by boots, cowl and gloves thrown on the floor./p

"The armor of the Dark Brotherhood," she heard the woman say, hearing a low chuckle, "Think of it as your house warming present from all of us."

She slowly began to unfold, a nostalgic smile spread across her face as whispered to herself, "Dark as the Void."

She looked up to see the woman wearing a confused expression on her face. Carciniea assumed a defensive position, immediately letting out a low growl, "What? A paid murderer isn't allowed to be poetic?"

The woman found this amusing as she smirked, shaking her head as she turned her back and left to the room on Carciniea's left. She remembered her mentioning something pertaining to meeting the other members; despite Carciniea's desire to steer away from them, she didn't seem to have much of a choice if she wanted to get contracts done.

She took the moment of a lone room and dressed herself. She was happy to be rid of the tacky and slightly annoying armor and took great joy in the thought of being back in the skintight armor. She garbed herself with all but the cowl, never liking having her face covered due to the old, childish fear she had that she'd suffocate in it.

Feeling comfortable in what felt like her second skin, she ventured deeper into the sanctuary, forgetting her rejoice in her isolation and wishing Lucien would at least show himself. It would surely calm her nerves, that much was for sure. She hid in the shadows, watching the small group converse and laugh. Something about it tugged at her heart as she listened:

"Do that part again! Where he tried to buy you candy! Ha ha ha!" She heard the Argonian, who was laugh so hard she thought he was ready to fall over.

The small little girl straightened her dress, still trying to collect herself. "Okay, okay. Here we go," she cleared her throat, deepening her voice, " 'Ooh, what a pretty little girl. Would a sweetie like a sweetie? How about some chocolate?' Oh yes, kind sir. My parents left me all alone, and I'm so hungry. I know a shortcut to the shop, right through this alley... 'Yes, very good. My, it is dark down here. Oh, but how beautiful you are. Such a lovely smile with lovely... Teeth... Your teeth! No! Ahh!'" The girl broke off as her face turned a light shade of pink from laughing so hard.

"Oh Babette, what a wicked child you are," a female Dunmer commented, shaking her head while containing a smile.

"What about you, Festus? How did that last contract turn out?" Asked a Redguard, turning his head to a much older man.

"Yes, please, old man. Tell us your tales of your great wizardry..." A rugged, animalistic man growled, scratching his scraggly beard.

"The young and stupid, always mocking the experienced and brilliant eh? My contract went very well, for your information." The older man let out a loud snort, thinking he had won that game of wits, before turning to the Redguard, "Tried a new spell. Just a little something I've been practicing in my spare time. Come so close to turning a priest inside out. So messy..."

"And what of you, Arnbjorn? Something of a merchant? A Khajit I believe?" The Dunmer crossed her arms, a small smirk danced across her face.

"A big doggy chasing a little kitty? How cute," mocked the little girl, who she guessed was the one named Babette.

Everyone erupted into fits of laughter and snickers, the man named Arnbjorn let out a low, but fierce growl.

"I am not adorable, it wasn't funny, and he wasn't a merchant," Arnbjorn snapped, the snickering quickly dying down, "He was a monk. A master of the Whispering Fang technique. He's done and dead now... And I have new fur for a loincloth."

He got a few more laughs, though most people were still snickering over the small Babette's comment. Carciniea also couldn't help herself but to laugh, feeling as if she had just came home for the first time.

She soon noticed everyone break off from the circle, leaving to attend their own things. She had forgotten the person she had to see our contracts, giving her more reason to wish Lucien was there. She swallowed her pride, taking a shot with the Argonian. She figured it was fitting, since Ocheeva was the first member she talked to when she first joined the Brotherhood.

She scurried in between the others, too nervous to make eye contact with any of them. She tapped on his shoulder. The Argonian, turned to her, a genuine kind smile on his face, "Welcome, my sister. You have made the right choice in joining us, I assure you."

This much was enough to calm her wired nerves, her shoulders slowly lowered as she showed a kind smile, "I- I was actually wondering who to go to about contracts?"

He placed a hand on her shoulder, pointing to the Redguard who was heading in the opposite direction they were. "Nazir is your guy to go to," he patted her shoulder, "If you need anything else, just ask ol' Veezara."

She curtly nodded, keep her eyes locked on Veezara. This wasn't the greatest idea as she bumped into someone big and much taller than she.

"Watch where you're going!" barked the large man, Arnbjorn.

Initially, her first reaction was to apologize and scurry away back into the shadows. But, something in her resisted that and instead barked right back, "Beat it, dog. Before I get your master to beat you for me."

He slowly began to reach behind his back for his sheathed weapon. At that point, she glanced to Nazir, taking this moment to scurry away, "Oh look at that, contracts to fulfill."

Arnbjorn didn't bother chasing after her, which made her thank the Dread Lord who must've been watching over her. She caught her breath, the Redguard had yet to notice her.

"I, uh-" She felt her words catching themselves in her throat.

He turned to her, his eyes scanning every inch of her. "So you're the newest member of our little dwindling, dysfunctional family? I've heard quite a bit about you."

She felt her cheeks and the peak of her ears slightly burn, though in the back of her head she couldn't help but wonder what he meant by dwindling... "I can assure you will be hearing even more of me," she chuckled, slightly bowing to him.

"Oh, cocky," he let out a mocking laugh, slicing her confidence in half, "I give you three days before you turn up dead... But, I've been proven wrong before."

"That, uh woman-" She made a motion to the first room in the front, though Nazir looked confused to whom she was confused. She made a few additional gestures, trying to describe the leader, "Tall, Nord I think, um... I think she's the leader or something?"

"I believe you are referring to Astrid, my dear," he let out a chuckle.

She quickly nodded, her mind trying to sway away from any impending judgement, "Yeah, her. Uh, Astrid said you could have some contracts or something for me?"

"Did she? Well as it turns out, there are a few contracts that have been lingering we haven't had the chance to get through. As well as a few that come dribbling, but I'll save those for when you're available."

"Sounds pretty simple."

"It is. These aren't particularly glamorous. But they'll keep you busy, that's for sure. There's no limit or anything - the targets shouldn't be going anywhere. You can turn each one in or turn them all in as a group. Whichever works for you."

"I- I suppose I'll take my first set, then."

"I've got three available, since you're so certain you'll zoom through the ranks," he took out a sheet of parchment for his pocket, reading it, "Narfi, a beggar in Ivardstead; Ennodius Papius the former miller; then you have Beitild, a miner in the Dawnstar."

Carciniea didn't really respond, though he had the hint she was lost as a fly began buzzing around her eyes without her notice. He squished it in his hands, the noise almost having her jump out of her skin.

"Do you have that down?" His voiced boomed. She could feel herself almost shrink compared to his taller, more intimidating stature.

"C-Could I have that written down?"

He groaned, slamming the parchment against her chest. She caught the parchment, her hands slightly shaking. "There. Come back when you at least have one done." He turned away, leaving her to scurry back to the outside world.

Carciniea pushed herself against the Black Door, more than happy just to be out of there.

"Must I ask how it went?" She heard Lucien's cocky voice, materializing next to her.

"Never... Again..." She breathed, feeling her heart wanting to burst out of her chest, "Everyone seems rather cold, except about one. I even thought one of the bigger ones were ready to use me as a chew toy..."

She felt her throat begin to become dry, her vision going blurry as tears slowly welled up. "It doesn't feel like home, Luci-"

"Stop that," he snapped, his glowing eyes with a certain coldness, "Hearing someone sob... The most annoying sound any living, breathing thing could make. This is a new time, a new place. Things will be different, do you not see?"

She fell to the ground, rubbing her eyes. She dared not so much as glance to him through her peripheral vision.

"Pull yourself together," he turned away and began to walk, "There is much work to be done."

With much reluctance, she finally dried her eyes and pulled herself to her feet as she caught up to her feet.

Lucien started her off on something somewhat easy: He had her hunt after a man who had been struck in poverty, Narfi. The traveling was a pain in the back for her, but she kept a closed mouth most of the way due to Lucien's surprisingly sharp behavior toward her.

They soon enough managed to make it to Ivarstead, though she couldn't really enter the little town in her armor. She scouted the town for the day, keeping a close eye on the beggar while remaining in the shadows. She quietly followed him as he made his way to an abandoned shack, a sharp, yet wide slit to the center of throat and he dropped without a problem.

The second target was more of an accident gone right. They headed north, to the much colder parts of the generally icy province. It took some tracking, but they managed to get a location for their second contract: Ennodius Papius, who lived a reclusive life not too far from a mill. She had him in arm's reach, yet she was much to afraid in case someone in the mill had been watching. This caused irritation in Lucien whom made her jump, causing her to accidentally set the poor blighter on fire. Needless to say, she made a ran for it.

Now, they had but one target left. A miner, even more up north in a small city. Carciniea was already freezing, no help from the skintight suit, though she insisted if she went any farther she'd be a perfect candidate for the Icy Brotherhood. Lucien didn't find it too humorous.

"Always around guardsmen," Lucien reported. The two were atop one of the roofs, silently observing Beitild. "How are you going to handle this?"

Carciniea stayed silent for a long moment, watching every movement the woman made with great interest. "Couldn't I just break into her home?"

He gave a nod, "That's one way."

"But... I want to have fun with this one," a devilish grin danced across her face. Lucien only laughed in agreement.

Carciniea hid in the woman's home, watching as she came in during the evening to eat and eventually sleep. Lucien continuously urged her to kill her as she slept, but ther was no fun in that. She purposely tipped over a fragile bowl, smiling as the shattering sound woke the woman.

"Is anyone out there?" She weakly asked.

"Someone wants you dead, Beitild."

"Oh really? Is that someone my so-called husband, Leigelf? If that's the case, the feeling's mutual."

Carciniea chuckled, hopping down from her cabinet and approached her. "I represent the Dark Brotherhood. Your death is at hand!"

"We'll just see about that, won't we?" She took out her pickaxe.

Beitild charged at her, Carciniea dropping to the floor and using her leg power to kick her through the door. She dropped her axe as she flew through the door, hitting the small wooden steps hard as she tumbled onto the snowy ground. There weren't any guards coming to her rescue yet, giving her the perfect moment for one last strike. She picked up the dull pickaxe and landing it in her brain. Beitild finally, once and for all, fell to the floor.

Carciniea didn't hesitate to make a dash for it, though it looked as though the guards didn't really care to investigate.

pShe rubbed her arms, the icy cold nipping at her face but she had to keep her arms warm. "I-Is that all?" She asked, teeth chattering./p

Lucien nodded, turning south. "We can go home." He confirmed.

She made a face at the fact she had to see all those awful people again. "I won't quite call it home..." She followed after him, "I mean, it's not even hidden that well. I just found it by accident! There's no secrecy to it, really. The old sanctuary in Cheydinhal? Now, that one, was a real one."

"You live in the past," he sighed, "And that past is far behind us all. Give them a try, talk to them, then you will realize they are not too bad."

She rolled her eyes, already knowing she wasn't going to take his advice in mind. "There's one thing I can give it, though. I've seen that little town not too far from the sanctuary and I can honestly say it reminds me of Cheydinhal's poor little brother."

"Like I said, there is some resemblance to our old home. I suppose that should give you a large hint for future events."

She let his words sink in, though her mind kept redrawing a blank. She shook this off, thinking it was one of his little tricks he enjoyed pulling on her. She stretched her arms, "Sanctuary, here we come."


	4. The Little Man in Red

"Oh, Nazir!" Carciniea proudly sang, more than ready to prove him wrong from what he had previously stated.

She tripped on one of the old steps, falling on her face in the main room. It was one of those moments she was more than happy not to have Lucien accompany her as well as the room being strangely empty.

"Guys?" She asked, proceeding further into the little underground quarters they had. She watched herself to not make a fool of her once more.

She saw everyone clambered around, with the addition of a little Imperial man dressed like a jester. The mere sight of him had her giggling, though she managed to contain the small outburst after a few seconds. Luckily, this didn't attract any attention.

"The Night Mother is mother of all! It is her voice we follow! _HER WILL_! Would you dare risk disobedience? And being rewarded with... punishment?"

She watched this odd little man with a sense of amazement swelling in her stomach; something about him made her want to sing, to laugh, to dance her way back into the Void. But the topic he was defending gave her that much more reason to be weary of him. Why did it seem everyone was so simply manipulated by the Night Mother? Have they lost all sense of sanity?

"Keep talking. We'll see then who gets 'punished'," Arnbjorn scolded, who stood faithfully behind Astrid.

"Now, now you angry pup. Can't you manage to behave yourself for once?" The older wizard snorted, turning to face the Imperial, "Mister Cicero, I am for one glad to see you and the Night Mother have arrived safely. You-"

"YOU!" Carciniea's sight began to blur into a vermillion tint, raging seething at the seems. Her eyes weren't locked on the Cicero fellow, Arnbjorn, Astrid, or anyone. She could feel the familiar cold, presence void of life within the crate. She pulled out her dark, engraved dagger. She stormed her way to the crate, her vision darkening with each heavy footstep.

"YOU FOUL, DESPICABLE, WRETCHED OLD... OLD-"

She wasn't sure if it was the sudden swirl of pure anger that made her light headed or exhaustion finally caving in on her. She was ready to strike, but her legs gave and she hit the hard earth. Her mind spun around, but her eyes remained firmly closed as she passed out in front of the crate.

"Is she going to be alright?"

"I gave her some tonics to help her rest, she should be just fine," she heard the young, small Babette.

Carciniea's eyes a fraction, making out various figures as her head ached. She coughed, her throat raspy and dry. This made her wonder how long she spent in bed or unconscious. She opened her eyes wider, the light stinging her vision as she groaned.

"Oh good, she's awake," Babette leaned closer, "Can you tell me your name?"

"Oh, ha-ha," Carciniea tried to sit up, realizing just about everyone except the strange, new Cicero was there. "What happened?"

"You flew into a rage," Veezara sat next to her, which provided some comfort to her, "Then you sort of, well... Passed out. A strange, semi-amusing sight to see."

She rolled her eyes, chuckling to herself. She couldn't help but feel embarrassed, though. She didn't meet Astrid's intense gaze, feeling too nervous just being in the same room.

"At least you're feeling better, dear," said the older wizard, "If you're feeling ill, just come to Babette or Uncle Festus. We'll fix you right up."

A few started began to dissipate from the large, thick circle. Nazir came by, smirking, "At least you made it back alive. I believe I owe you an apology, don't I?"

She simply shook her head, "I finished my contracts."

"And so you have. Stop by later, remind me to give you your cut. I think right now your only job is to rest," he patted her shoulder, turning to leave, "Good job, kid."

Now all there remained were Astrid and Veezara. She finally brought herself to nervously smile, though it seemed Astrid wasn't only there to check on her.

"Good, you're awake," she sighed, "Good thing you pulled that stunt when you did, too. I wasn't very interested in talking to that fool, anyhow. But, that's not the point. I got some work for you."

"Are you sure, Astrid?" Veezara spoke up, "The poor girl already exhausted herself from the contracts she already received. Don't you think this should wait until she's better?"

"I'm telling her now since she's awake. She doesn't have to jump when I say jump. If she wants a reminder, she can ask for one," she shot him a glare, Veezara sitting back with his arms folded.

Carciniea tried to clear her aching throat, stuttering out, "Y-You have a contract for me?"

Admittedly, she felt nice having a small break and was grateful to have her little Argonian friend stand up for her. It was like hanging around Ocheeva's or Teinaava's child, which had her feel even more relaxed. She wondered if he was a Shadowscale just like her old best friends.

Astrid nodded. "You must go to Markarth. There's a girl there running her mouth, wanting an ex-lover killed. Her name's Muiri. Set up the contract, get it done, then come back home."

"Anything else?"

"Just get it done. Be respectful, represent us, and be professional. I'll be nice this time and let you keep whatever Muiri pays you. They always pay good."

Astrid left without another word, leaving her to her Argonian friend.

"So," Carciniea turned to Veezara, who still held a stoney gaze as Astrid left, "What did I miss?"

"We have another new member, this time he's from Cyrodiil. Not entirely sure what to make of it, really. It's not that I don't respect Sithis and all, but I kill because that's what I was trained to do. As long as Astrid is happy, I'm happy."

"You sure didn't seem happy just a moment ago," Carciniea nodded her head in the direction Astrid had left. Veezara only shook his head, rising from his seat. "Rest," he said, "We wouldn't want you to have another episode."

Despite knowing Lucien would probably want her up and ready to set out for Markarth, she thought she earned herself some rest. She recalled him mentioning she should get more acquainted with the other members, and that was exactly what she planned on doing.

She spent the next few days mostly in bed, though she did leave on occasion. She sat around with what she thought were the more friendlier members, listening to Festus' old stories, learning of Babette's vampirism while trying her best not to think Vincente, and attempted to tell apart Gabriella's sarcasm.

On a not so light note, while she was learning alchemy from Babette, Carciniea realized a fear in herself she had not known before: Frostbite Spiders. She was sure to mark the alchemy table off her list of places to go to pass the time.

After a week, she hated to admit she was finally rejuvenated and well rested. She looked back into the contract Astrid had discussed with her, packing up her things before setting out to Markarth. She released a mental groan as she realized she'd be getting a mouthful from Lucien for not resting up sooner.

She dragged herself through the wide, underground room; her eyes glanced to large crate every so often as she resisted the immense urge to tear down those boards and take the Night Mother's rotting head.

"Wait, OH WAIT! I know you!" Called a high pitched, deranged voice as the little red man danced around her, "From the road! Cicero never forgets a face!"

"I..." She stared at him, her nerves immediately vanishing, "I- You must have the wrong bloke, squire."

She broke into a nervous sprint, hearing him cheer merrily, "Stay safe!"

She slammed the Black Door shut, staring into the bleak, rainy night. It had been so long since she had seen sunlight she wasn't too aware of time.

"Feeling better, Listener?" She heard Lucien.

Cut the shit, Lucy," she used the old, private nickname she would use when discussing about him with friends, glaring at him, "I really appreciate that warning you never gave me about a freaking jester transporting the Night Mother!"

"They told you she would be arriving shortly," he simply shrugged, though that mocking grin ate at her.

She stepped out into the cold rain, her boot being covered with mud. "Oh, come on!" She exclaimed. She kicked the mud, spraying even more on her armor and on the wet ground. "Stupid rain, stupid weather," she grumbled, "Stupid Night Mother..."

The two headed west, into the rockier parts of Skyrim. Carciniea wasn't exactly sure how close they were to the city, but with every mountain they managed to climb or go around, she felt that much closer to civilization.

Carciniea looked up to the lit sky, golden rays streaking across the dark river of stars. She couldn't help but wonder if this was a normal sight for Skyrim, or did it just happen over time? Was it the same way in Cyrodiil and she never noticed? She felt a jab of guilt hit her chest for not taking the time out to appreciate the amazing world around her.

They ran into another steep mountain, but Carciniea had no current interest in climbing it. Instead, she slid down to the ground, thankful the raining had stopped around noon. "Y'know," she breathed, her chest heaving with every deep sigh, "Babette said I shouldn't push myself so hard."

She received no sassy comeback or demand to keep going, taking the silence as a surrender and complied well. She hid a victorious smile, noticing a rustling in the distance. A few figures emerged, slowly approaching them.

"Lucien, look," she pointed to them, a glimmer of hope shone in her eyes, "Fellow travelers! Perhaps they have a map to spare? Let me talk to them-"

"Listener..."

"I stand corrected, fellow travelers with strange fashion sense. Not that I'm complaining," she eyed the more masculine figures as three slowly increased to six. She glanced at Lucien, noticing the judgmental look she was receiving. "Okay, after all the times I have blatantly hit on you, I really don't want to see that look."

"You realize they plan to kill you, correct?"

"What?!" She looked to the group that slowly inched towards her, "They don't even know me! I don't know them!... Oh, that's just plain stupid."

One of them charged at her, Carciniea leaping over his head and landing on top of another looter. The choking, gargling sounds that protruded of them as she dug her ebony dagger in their windpipe was like music to her ears.

"The Forsworn will take back what is their's!" One called out.

She turned to face them, eyes widening as one was already directly behind her. She reflexively held up an arm over her face, but the makeshift axe never landed on her. She looked back at the Forsworn, who laid limply on the ground.

"It has been too long since I have last killed." Lucien laughed.

"Two down, four to go," Carciniea noted, dodging another blow by bending far back. She brought her legs up, striking a female Forsworn in the jaw. "Make that three," she laughed.

Lucien took out two more, while Carciniea simply walked to a lone one who was attempting to hide. She snuck up from behind, twisting his neck until she heard a distinct popping sound. The man slumped against the rock he hid behind, Carciniea wiping her hands in satisfaction.

Lucien caught up to her, a satisfied smile stretching his lips.

"I thought they couldn't see you or anything?" She asked, realizing what had transpired.

"Only if I wish, of course."

She opened her mouth to make some kind of comeback or simply nag at him for not having her more aware of this, but she digressed on the subject. She had a feeling Lucien longed to be in her place, to return to the world of the living and take lives like it was nothing. How he longed to not remain as some specter.

She pulled out a folded up piece of parchment, holding inside a whole map of the province. This much raised her spirits further. "Lucien, look!" She laughed, striking a victorious fist in the air.

He smirked, slowly shaking his head. He placed a hand on her shoulder, "We'll continue tomorrow. You do need rest."

Moments like this reminded her of why she became so infatuated by him. She didn't mind sleeping on the hard ground - She was more than use to it, but feeling Lucien right next to her brought some peace.

"It's funny," Lucien chuckled, she could hear a melancholic undertone in his words and see it in his gaze, "I look back sometimes and it feels like only a short while ago you were just a protégé. You had barely held a knife before, but you were eager to prove yourself. Ah, always so eager..."

"Do I..." She gulped, "Do I make you proud? As a teacher?"

"You make me proud everyday, Listener."/p

The ends of her lips tugged and curled into a small smile. "You don't have to call me Listener, you know. We're friends, right? Just call me by my name."

"I am still trying to get out of the habit of calling you Silencer, actually."

She closed her eyes, softly laughing to herself. She felt one of his hands stroke her hair, following the trail of braids down to the ponytail. It was quite romantic, at least in her mind. She had always wanted an intimate moment such as this, so she took a gamble and tried to push it to the next level.

"I love you, Lucien," she said boldly in a more nonchalant tone.

She didn't get a response back, only feeling his hand pause and retract back to his side instead of her hair. Disappointment was an understatement on how she felt, but she pretended to brush it off as she finally managed to find sleep.

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"What about now?"

"No, Listener."

"NOW?!"

"Once again, no."

Carciniea let out a groan, shortly following after Lucien who had the map with him. She continued in the making of over-dramatic sighs, mostly to see how far his patience could go before snapping. He lead them back onto a stone path, passing a shrine to Dibella, Carciniea making a face as they passed.

"Are we there yet?" She asked once more, poking him in the side.

"Actually," he shot her a side glance, "We are almost there."

"Oh," this had caught her off guard, nonetheless happy./p

They crossed a few more bridges, large farms coming into sight. They drew closer, a horse stable right by Dwemer looking gates. There was a faint fog around, but nothing that truly hindered their sight.

"So, Skyrim has Dwemer ruins while Cyrodiil has Ayleid? Huh, some things never change," she chuckled to herself as they entered.

"Just remember to lay low," Lucien warned, "They can't see me, so try to stay out of trouble."

She nodded. She looked around skeptically, accidentally bumping into a blonde Nord woman.

"I'm sorry," the woman said, taking close notice of Carciniea, "Need help? You look lost."

"N- Actually yes, I need to find this girl named Muiri. You know where I can find her?"

She pointed south, "Muiri? I think you can find her in The Hag's Cure, just right down th-" She fell to the ground, a few screams let out around her. Carciniea's eyes widened, seeing guards rushing to her. She slowly held her arms up, "I-I didn't do this time-"

Instead of attacking her, they went after another man. She sprinted in the direction the blonde woman pointed, wanting to cry out of the sudden immense fear.

She found the alchemy shop in no time, thankful the woman had managed to somewhat assist her before being slain. She must remember to send her family a thank you card.

She entered The Hag's Cure, somewhat weary what gave the shop owner inspiration to name it that. She saw a small fellow Breton girl sweeping up what looked like spilt bone meal.

She assumed this was Muiri, or else Astrid or Lucien would have her head. "The Dark Brotherhood has heard your plea, Muiri."

"The Dar... Oh! The Black Sacrament did work, I-"

"Obviously. Now what do you need?"

"I need Alain Dufont dead! I want him hunted down and murdered like the dog he is!"

Carciniea stayed silent, not at all impressed and could already guess the reason behind it.

"I-I didn't know, but... He's the chief of a band of cutthroats. He's got a hold somewhere in Raldbthar and I need him dead. It should be around Windhelm. I don't care what you do with his friends, as long as Alain is dead!"

"Then I suppose it will be done."

"Good, good. I've saved up quite a bit for this, I'll make sure you get your coin. You'll get extra if... If you can handle one more thing."

"I'm listening."

"I want you to kill another, as well. It wasn't part of the initial agreement, but... If you can, that's more pay in it for you. I need Nilsine Shatter-Shield dead as well. She lives in Windhelm as well, if it isn't too much trouble."

"Anything else?"

"I... I was going to kill them myself, but I lost my nerve. Had a special poison brewed and everything. It's called Lotus Extract. Maybe you could use it?"

Muiri shakily handed her two small vials, a dirty brownish-orangey color to it. Carciniea took it, eyes locked on Muiri, before carefully inspecting the vials. She stuffed them in a pouch tied around her thigh, nodding. "Consider them dead and forgotten."

She began to leave, halting in front of the exit. "Oh, Muiri..."

She turned to see the young girl looking back to her, her expression looked almost terrified.

"Just a reminder, mourning never comes to those who send messengers of death."

She let out a maniacal laugh, leaving Muiri to ponder on her words. She left the ancient city to head east into Eastmarch, quietly preparing herself for the terrible cold to come.


	5. To Listen to Silence

Carciniea decided Raldbthar would be her first destination, getting the harder part finished first so she wouldn't have to worry about much later on. From a distance and even while climbing the snowy steps it looked like the old ruins were deserted, until an older looking Orc came charging towards her while bearing a silver warhammer.

It had caught her off guard, but the sight of seeing him slip and break his neck was actually pretty hilarious to her. She knew she shouldn't laugh and be quite serious while on the job, but the whole thing was admittedly amusing. She felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, her mouth launching a string of curses as she pulled out an iron arrow.

She looked to see a Bosmer archer, aiming yet another at her. She quickly dodged it, a close call indeed.

"I really hate archery," she grunted, sprinting towards the Bosmer whom was reaching for their dagger. Carciniea leapt, her arms fighting the bandit's own strength. She pressed the dagger down, the small metal wavering back and forth as the two fought with pure strength. She managed to lodge it down into their throat, leaving them to choke and suffocate. "Especially people who have talent in it," she finally finished, peering down at the gasping elf. She brushed some dirt off, turning to enter the Dwarven ruin.

She crouched down in the cold ruins, delicately observing any signs of life. She ventured further, attempting to get pass the blazing fire that shot out across the next archway. Despite Lucien's persistence saying there was another way around, she still decided to silently roll with only being slightly singed.

She snuck up to the locked gate, getting a glimpse of about three bandits. She managed to pick the lock to the gate, slowly pushing it open. The door let out a terrible moan. She began to wonder and doubt if they were even alive if they didn't notice or react to that.

"Either these guys are dumb and deaf," she turned to Lucien, her back to them, "Or they're dumb and dead."

She snickered, already almost forgetting all about them until a steel battle axe landed right beside her. She instinctively grasped it with one hand, shooting one foot up to kick the plunderer away. She dug the axe out, swinging it around and swiping the head clean off of another highwaymen.

"You must have those annoying gods on your side if you made this far. I have to admit, though, I'm rather impressed."

She guessed this must be Alain Dufont.

"Let me tell you something about the gods," she professed, elbowing the last of Dufont's men and having him double over, "They are so... It's annoying, yes. You're not the one that had to be brought back because you don't get along with one stupid person!"

He gave her a quizzical look, trying to process what she had shortly ranted about. This didn't completely bother her, she had planned to kill him anyway.

"You have no idea how long I wanted to say that," she chuckled, "Heh, good thing you're dying, right?"

"I wouldn't be so sure..." He pulled out a unique looking warhammer, beginning to charge at her.

Within only a few steps, he caught aflame and soon collapsed onto the ground. Carciniea waited until the lit fuel died down, suppressing a snickers at the ironic death. She walked over and nudged his badly burnt face with her foot. "You really weren't as tough as you thought, were you?" She laughed.

"I think you have me to thank," Lucien stood in the doorway. He beckoned her to follow and leave to their next target.

She followed his actions. "Really?" She asked in a manner of disbelief, "You never striked me as the type to use magic."

"My dear Listener, it is not that I did it on a whim, but more so that I noticed the flammable fuel. Someone had to make use of it."

She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "Show off."

She entered Windhelm, wondering if the Aretino was still around. She'd have to check on him after her business with Nilsine Shatter-Shield was said and done. She even thought about giving him some septims to buy himself food.

Her first desire in the city wasn't to simply kill her mark and leave, she wanted to spend some time in the terribly cold city. No, she had heard of a few strange, yet intriguing shops that caught her eyes. The first place on her list was a quaint little museum called Calixto's House of Curiosities.

The old man, Calixto, sat in an old wooden chair. The shop itself was quaint, nothing too glamorous or flashy. He offered a small tour for only a couple gold coins, which made her even more happy at the cheap price.

The collection itself was amazing for someone who was incredibly bored, though one item did strike her interest.

"And here we have the Book of Fate, discovered in a secret room in the Arcane University. The writing in the book describes the destiny of its reader, so the words change for the person reading," the tourist began, "Some only see blank pages, though not many are sure what that means..."

She waited for the man to turn his back, picking the book up and flipping through the pages. She half-expected blank pages, her way of guessing it was just an ordinary book. On the center page, instead of blank parchment or writing, laid a familiar marking. The imprint of a scarlet hand laid there, staring up at her.

She heard Lucien's familiar cocky laugh, she rested the book back on the shelf as she growled under her breath to him, "Shut it, you."

"You say something, my dear?" Calixto turned back to her.

"N-No, sir," she quaked, bowing respectively, "I just wanted to take a peek at the book, is all."

Calixto seemed slightly pestered at the minor disruption, giving Carciniea that much more reason to rush out of his shop once the tour had ended.

"Are you done playing?" Lucien miffed, though this barely surprised her.

"Aw, come on! This is the closest to a date as we're getting!" She laughed, wandering off.

Lucien reluctantly followed behind, "Children never seem to learn..."

Nilsine Shatter-Shield had been living in fear ever since the death of her sister. She was out much later than she was comfortable with, slowly hurrying home with her basket half filled with colorful flowers.

Her paranoia began to get the better of the her, though knowing her house was just around the corner brought some form of comfort. The loud cracking of a twig snapping echoed through the pathways, Nilsine jumping from the unexpected sound. She turned her to find the source of the sound, relieved that she was alone. She turned back, a new figure appearing from the dark, chilling night.

The figure emerged, slowly, but the two never broke the contact.

"Muiri is very unhappy..." The figure spoke, a light feminine voice.

Nilsine had lost her nerve; she threw her basket at the mysterious stranger, turning around to be met with a knife in her gullet. She collapsed, her eyes rolling into her skull.

Carciniea emerged from the shadows, scratching the back of her head as she stared down at the newly dead Shatter-Shield.

"Well, um..." She coughed, looking at the other figure, "I guess that solves my problem?" A flickering light emerged from another intersecting pathway, Carciniea and the other killer shot each other a look. "I won't tell if you don't tell!" She called, leaping and climbing onto the house belonging to the Shatter-Shield family.

She could hear people screaming, a guard howling in anguish, "The Butcher strikes again!"

She leapt to a stone wall, the words echoing in her head. "I wish I had a cool nick name..." She huffed, seeing Lucien form before her eyes.

"This is not a time to get distracted!" He thundered, his roaring voice had Carciniea slip and almost fall, "You're almost out of here, you can take a carriage back to the Reach so you can rest."

She nodded, lifting and pushing her legs over her head, making a small whining sound. "Really wish whoever this was, was just a teeny bit more flexible," she rubbed her lower back, hands running down to her thighs.

She gained balance, sprinting across the wall as the wide, grand doors came into view. She leapt off the edge, falling and rolling towards the door. She made a grunt, ignoring any of her injuries. As much as she wanted to drop and start to cry, she preferred not listening to Lucien's annoyed babbling.

She ran across the bridge, launching herself on top of the carriage. She threw a handful shiny gold coins at him, yelling, "TAKE MY MONEY AND GET ME TO THE REACH!" The rider was stumped on what to say, sputtering out random nonsense as he immediately drove off.

Lucien materialized beside her, looking over his shoulder to snowy forest passing behind them. "One step closer..." He murmured, probably thinking to himself.

She relaxed in her seat, the cold, crispy air stung her lungs with each deep breath she took. "I don't want to go back," she complained, "Not with that little jester and the Night mother... There's something strange about them, something not so good... For us, I mean."

Lucien stayed silent, pulling his own hood off.

"Why don't you come with me into the sanctuary?" She suggested, instantly perking up at the thought. "It'd be nice to have someone to talk to, y'know. Besides Veezara, Festus, and Babette of course." She grabbed his hand, "C'mon, it'll be fun."

"We shall see." His voice was low and grave, an odd shiver shot up her spine.

She laid down, laying her head on what was suppose to be his lap. He disappeared once more before she made contact, leaving her to wonder why he bothered showing up at all. Sleep crept up on her, despite her struggling to stay awake, doomed to listen to the incessant laughing that relentlessly echoes through her mind.

Carciniea stepped back into the sanctuary, this time along with Lucien just as she hoped. She clutched in her hand a ring Muiri gave her as her way of giving extra payment. Carciniea didn't exactly want to sell it off, but it wasn't like she had much use for it. Maybe she could give it to Babette with alchemic training in return.

"What this sanctuary needs," Lucien began to babble, catching her eye, "Is a good purification..."

"Not funny," she began to fume, though she couldn't quite shake the words out of her head...

"Ah, you're back," she heard Astrid speak up, silently praying she hadn't heard Carciniea talk to herself, "How was your first actual contract? Better than what Nazir's been giving you, I bet."

She simply nodded, smiling to her as she slightly bowed, "It went just fine. Just, fine..."

"That's good," she stood straight up, no longer hunched over a wide map of Skyrim, "Now I need your help on a more... Personal note."

"Everything okay."

Astrid walked around, lowering her voice as she approached her, "It's Cicero. Since he's arrived, he's been quite erratic... Well, a bit more than just that. A few of us believe he's mad."

Carciniea hesitantly nodded, allowing her to continue.

"But it's worse than that, he's been locking himself with the Night Mother in a locked little room. He's speaking to someone, and I must find out."

"Don't you think that's a little..." She bit her lip, trying to carefully plan out her words, "Well, what if he's talking to himself? Some people do that out of habit."

"I doubt it. I know I seem paranoid, but I still need to know what that demented little fool is up to. I don't like secrets, dear."

She let out a sigh, "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to eavesdrop, that's what. There's nowhere in the room for you to hide, so you'll have to, oh I don't know..." Astrid arched a brow, "Hide inside the Night Mother's coffin?"

Carciniea sat there for a moment, pondering. She always imagined burning the hag alive with a smile on her face, but that's on her own whim. But... Astrid, the leader? The Black Hand would have had her mutilated for the thought. She had to remember what Lucien said: She was in a different place, at a different time. Things will be much different. This must be no exception.

"Yes... Yes, the coffin," Carciniea faked a smile, this was definitely something she had to consult Lucien about. "It's perfect."

"Knew I could count on you," Astrid patted her back, "Now go. Before Cicero goes to meet up with this traitor."

She gave Carciniea a slight push into the deeper recesses of the sanctuary. Carciniea checked over her shoulder to see if Lucien was still accompanying her, to see herself on her own. "Coward," she said with distaste.

She gave Veezara a shy wave, wishing she had a moment to talk to him or just hang out with him. She had to make sure to check up on him after the whole Cicero affair was over.

She pried the coffin open, gagging at the intense smell of death and decay.

"Okay, you old bitch," Carciniea took one last gulp of air, "Make room for me."

She nudged the corpse over to the side, sealing the doors shut as she sat in silence, waiting...

It took longer than she expected, a small piece of her swearing for not stopping and talking to her Argonian friend for a moment. She heard the squeaking and moaning of the old iron doors, a familiar voice rising out of the darkness.

"Ah, alone at last," she quietly gasped at the sound of Cicero's voice, "Oh sweet, sweet solitude. Nobody will disturb us now." He sang, quckly followed by an abrupt gasp, "The others... I've spoken to them, they're coming around! I can almost taste it! The wizard, the Argonian, even the un-child... What about you? Have you spoken to anyone? No... No, how silly of Cicero... Always Cicero, doing the laughing, the stalking, the talking, and the dancing!"

She felt a large, vast pit in her stomach. The rising intensity in his voice made her chest begin to hurt, tears forming in her eyes out of fear.

"And what do you do? Hmm? Nothing! No, not a damned thing at all!... Not that I'm angry, or anything. No, poor Cicero understands. He'll always understand. Understand and obey!"

"You'll talk when you're ready, won't you?" She heard his voice begin to crack, a terrible, pitiful sound in his usual eccentric tone. "Won't you?... My sweet Night Mother."

"Wh-" She began to talk, her hand acting on its own as she covered her mouth. She felt her newly fear-ridden tears drop as she realized what was actually happening. She let out a wheeze, swearing up and down at herself for being stupid.

_Poor Cicero... Dear Cicero... Such a loyal servant, pity he cannot hear my voice. No, for he is not the Listener_

"How can I keep you safe? How can I do as you bid if you will not talk! To anyone!" Cicero cried.

_Oh, but I will speak my Cicero. Yes, I will speak to you. For you are the one._

She heard cackling in her head, much different from the laughing plaguing her dreams. If she had the space to, Carciniea would more than happily set this entire coffin aflame. She mentally swore to the Night Mother, to the Dread Father, but most of all Lucien for not giving clearer warnings. She was more than ready to scream from rage.

_Yes, you. My rebellious child, one who never fulfilled their task. I give you this one task - travel to Volruund. Speak with a man by the name of Amaund Motierre. Do not fail me, child. Mother will not give you a third chance._

Despite the sudden burst of newly born anger that ran in her blood, she heard a desperate and pitiful voice once more:

"How did Cicero fail you? Cicero didn't mean to, Mother. Cicero is so very sorry... He's tried everything, but he can't find the Listener..."

She let out a sigh, her heart tugging toward her more compassionate side. "Oh, Cicero..." She whispered.

_Tell Cicero the time has come. Tell him the very words he has longed to hear for so many years: Darkness rises when Silence dies._

The doors to coffin opened, Carciniea falling onto the floor. She felt hands wrap around her throat, squeezing it little by little. She began to cough and choke, looking around for help. Her arms tried to push the crazy jester off of her, but to no avail.

"SPEAK, WORM! EXPLAIN YOURSELF!"

Her eyes began to roll into her head, coughing out fragments of a sentence. "The... One... Night Mother... Spoke..."

His grasp immediately fled, Carciniea quietly hoped he left no marks on her throat. It would be a strange explanation, indeed.

"She... Spoke to you? The Night Mother herself?" Cicero's eyes lit up with joy, only narrowing with suspicion. He pulled out a dagger not too different from her own, holding it to her throat, "You really think the Mother would speak to you? TO YOU?"

Her eyes were glued to the sharp end of the dagger, gulping slowly.

He slammed her against the floor, a glimmer of bloodlust in his eyes, "MORE TREACHERY! The Night Mother wouldn't speak to you, you... You... Agh! She only speaks to the Listener and- and..."

He picked her up and slammed her back down with every screamed syllable, "_THERE. IS. NO. LISTENER_!"

"Sh-She told me, yes she told me," she tried to catch her breath, "Darkness rises when- when silence dies."

"She... She said that to you?" He dropped her once more, his hands fell down to her shoulders in a softer grip, "Those are the Binding Words! Written in the Keeper's Tomes, Cicero would know! Oh, Mother's only way of talking to poor Cicero..."

"Then... She's back! Our Lady is back! Oh, happy, happy days!" He sprung to his feet, dancing around merrily, "We have a Listener again!" We-"

"Hold it!" Astrid's voice came out, the tall Nord began sprinting out of the opposite door, "By Sithis, this ends now! Whatever you're planning, fool, is over!"

"Astr-" Carciniea began, trying to pick herself back only to fall once more. Cicero was a small man, even smaller than her, but he packed a punch. Astrid hurried to her side, helping her onto her feet, "Are you alright? I heard the commotion and-"

Carciniea waving a hand, "Calm, Astrid, calm."

"Who was Cicero talking to?" She stated defensively, "What's he planning? Where's his accomplice? I need answers, traitor!"

Cicero laughed at this, falling back onto the floor and even began rolling to and fro. "Traitor? Me? I spoke only to the Night Mother, though she refuses to speak to me! Oh no, she spoke to her! To our new Listener!"

"What is this lunacy?" Astrid spat, picking him up by the collar of his outfit. "It's true, so very true!" Cicero laughed, "The silence has been broken! The Listener has returned!"

She threw him back onto the ground, returning to the injured Carciniea's aid, "I figured you were caught when I heard Cicero screaming. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just doing what I can to break my back," she grunted. She could feel warm liquid run down across her eye, guessing it had been blood.

"Cicero said something about speaking to the Night Mother, but she spoke to you?"

"Yeah..." Carciniea let out a deep sigh, reluctantly answering, "The Night Mother spoke to me and stuff, saying I was 'the one'."

"Let me get this straight," Astrid rubbed her temple in an annoyed sense, "Cicero was talking to the Night Mother, who, for all we know, talks to only person. And she talked, right now, to you?"

"Yes, yes, yes. For the millionth time, yes! It's not that hard to figure out."

"So?" Astrid motioned her to continue.

"What?"

"What did she say?"

"Something about going to Volruund and talking to this guy named Amaund Motierre."

She slowly scratched her cheek, deep in thought. "Amaund Motierre... Don't think I've ever heard of him. But that old ruin, Volruund, I know where it is."

"Good, then you won't mind talking to him for me," she picked up her things, turning to leave.

"Nobody is talking to this Motierre guy," she demanded, stomping her foot once on the ground, "You take orders from me, are we clear? Until we get these things cleared, nobody is going to Volruund."

Astrid's eye narrowed, battling against Carciniea's own gaze. The two glared at one another, before Carciniea finally decided to finally leave her presence. She heard her call to her something about talking to Nazir, also how she needs time to think.

She was ready to look for Babette when two arms wrapped around her waist, swinging her wildly to and fro.

"THE LISTENER IS BACK!" She heard Cicero sing, doing a full spin before sitting her back down, "Are you excited? Hmm? I am! Things are finally looking up, now that we have our Listener!"

"Cicero..." She began, trying to reclaim her balance. She laid her hands on his shoulder in an attempt to steady herself. When she finally felt like she recollected herself, she looked to him, "Cicero, did you want to be Listener?"

She prayed he would give her the right answer as an excuse to give her duties up once more.

"Well..." He looked down, his mad smile began to tremble, "I did... I did my best, I tried to listen. But she never spoke! No matter how hard Cicero tried! The silence was almost... Maddening..." His eyes instantly flickered up to her, smiling brighter than ever, "But that was then, this is now! Cicero will stay a happy Keeper as long as, as um..."

"Call me Carcy," she couldn't help but smile.

"As long as Carcy remains a happy Listener!" He danced, laughing and singing around her. Something was oddly familiar about his laugh, something in it seemed so... So sad. Her face slowly dropped as it dawned upon her where she heard it before. "You're the laughter," her eyes narrowed with suspicion, "You're the laughter I hear in my dreams."

Cicero didn't say anything, probably didn't even hear what she said. She only left, leaving him to mutter and babble to himself.

She found Babette in her usual corner of the sanctuary, looking over the spiders and feeding them. Carciniea took a seat opposite of the child, smiling weakly.

"You look like death," Babette immediately commented without so much a glance at her.

"I feel like it," she chuckled, "Wanna do a small trade?"

Babette smirked at this, giving her a sideways glance. "Anything in particular?"

Carciniea dug into her pocket, setting Muiri's ring on the table. "You can have that if you just bandage me up," she rested her eyes for a second, letting the small girl inspect it, "If you don't like it, you can sell it off. I don't really care as long as I get some help."

Babette snuck into her pocket, getting up to grab some linen wrap. "It's not much, but I'll see what I can do," she explained, "What happened, anyway?"

She allowed the child to wrap up her bad arm, taking a deep breath. "Well," she cleared her throat, "Astrid asked me to go eavesdrop on that Cicero fellow since she's been hearing strange whispers in the dark, and at first I had that 'why me' impression and all. It's like she acts as if I'm the only one competent in doing something simple, or as if the sanctuary wasn't filled with a dozen others."

She let out a sharp whining sound as her small supernatural friend had accidentally moved her arm in a bad position. "Go on," she insisted, not a drop of sympathy in her voice.

"And well... That damned Night Mother choice me to be Listener, then soon after-"

"Wait," Gabriella chimed in, overhearing their conversation, "You? Listener? That can't be right."

"Trust me," Carciniea rolled her eyes, "I thought I was going crazy, too. I don't want to be the Listener!" She winced as Babette began stitching up the cut around her brow, her eyes closed shut.

"And then what?" The two girls asked.

"Cicero caught me and did this," she said flatly, "Then he found out I was the Listener. The little man packs a punch, I swear."

She opened one of her eyes by a few fractions, seeing both Gabriella and Babette gawk at her. "Yeah, I know right," she shuddered at the memory.

"Done," Babette announced, her eyes still wide with shock.

Carciniea awkwardly nodded, using her only hand available to scratch her shoulder. She got up, looking to the two once more, "You two wouldn't happen to know where Nazir is, would you?"

Gabriella struck a thumb over her shoulder, pointing down another small corridor. "He's eating," she simply said, slowly recovering from the confusion and going back to the book she was reading.

She climbed down the steps, taking a seat next to him. If it wasn't for the Listener bit, she would happily say things were beginning to go smoothly.

"Sister," Nazir addressed, not even affected by Carciniea's new, bandaged look.

She gave a simple nod. "Astrid said you may have extra work for me?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," he dug into one of his pockets, pulling out some parchment, "One should be rather easy, but the second will prove some challenge."

She took the parchment, skimming the details of the bard, Lurbuk, and the vampire, Hern. She slumped her shoulders with distaste, "Can I retire now?"

Nazir's only response was a hardy laugh and chiming, "Happy hunting."

She took this as a no, crawling to her feet as she figured her version of a vacation was getting out of that sanctuary. She mumbled to herself as she left the Redguard's presence, hissing.


	6. Suspicions Afloat

Carciniea sat on the freshly dead vampire, just finished dragging his body behind the small shack right across the mill he owned. Nazir was nowhere near wrong when he mentioned the challenge she would face against him, feeling a strange tingling sensation in her arms. She threw the torn liniment on the ground, hoping to get to somewhere where she could cure herself of the highly possible disease soon.

"There is a road not too far from here."

She let out a small shriek, Lucien's sudden voice had caught her off guard. Her face grew pinkish due to his surprise entrance, slowly turning into a deep, dark shade of red at what had transpired while he had purposely hidden himself. He began to leave, heading to the nearby road, though Carciniea caught him in his tracks.

"You- You coward!" She yelled, throwing her dagger towards him, though it only went right through and stumbled on the ground.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he turned his head to catch her gaze from the corner of his own, "Don't tell me you are upset by the obvious-"

"OBVIOUS?" She roared, "You could've told me! Not just playing meaningless guessing games, which includes avoiding my affection and leave me in the dark!"

She swung a punch, sweeping through him like nothing.

His expression remained unimpressed, his lips at a disdainful frown, "Maybe I should leave you to figure these things out on your own, helpless and all alone? Or would you rather grow up and get to the road, like I said."

Carciniea sniveled, giving up the argument while it was still starting. She saw an empty carriage ride by, heading north.

"Take it, it'll lead you to where you need to go," he whispered, dissolving back into nothing.

She leapt onto the side of the cart, slowly and silently crawling until she was behind the driver. She hushed into his ear, the end of her blade slowly slicing his throat. She managed to kick him over, feeling his body squish and crack beneath the long wheels. She whistled merrily to herself, whipping the horses to go faster.

"TO MORTHAL!" She sang, whistling an old tune she remembered her mother would sing.

The capital city of Hjaalmarch was one drearier than Falkreath, with more problems as well. Along the way, the wagon managed to collapse under her, as well as one of the horses being slain. She still had one horse that could hopefully give her travel to the sanctuary when this was over. Despite these things, Carciniea was generally happy she could get some aid to her wounds in a little alchemic shop, no longer did the fear of vampirism plague her mind.

The owner of the shop, Lami, was also kind enough to give her some directions around town. Though she kept this knowledge for future assistance, Carciniea already knew where she was headed.

She headed across the rocky path into Moorside Inn, staying close to the darkest corners of the inn as she watched the Orc finish his song. Not many people found his amusing, however, getting her to chuckle from the irony.

Lurbuk, her target, didn't seem to notice the absence of attention he was receiving and thanked everyone for coming. She followed him into one of the rooms, the bard instantly noticing he was not alone.

"A fan, I dare say?" He laughed, "And to think I was starting to believe this wasn't quite cut out for me!"

She smirked, "A bard, eh? Why don't you sing me a song of a scared Orc and how he was murdered?"

"Phantoms leap and... And the spirits did sing, of a frightful-"

Carciniea raised a hand, commanding him to stop. "N- Sarcasm, you should've learned it when you had the chance."

"Wh-" He began, before gasping as he felt cold metal forced into his belly. She held him by the waist, leaning her chin against his shoulder, mostly due to the vast height difference. "You were a terrible bard," she whispered, taking delight in his anguish, "Maybe you'll a thing or two in the Void."

She felt him begin to struggle, before falling limp against her. She used his clothing to wipe off her blade, sighing to herself, "Oh, Nazir, give me a challenge again. I'm growing... Bored."

She heard a soft creak behind her. Carciniea snapped her head back, eyes wide with fear as another resident of Morthal had made eye contact with her. She let out a loud shriek.

"Oh, screw you karma," she hissed to nothing, taking out a steel dagger Lurbuk hid in his pocket and threw it at the woman. She made haste toward the door, a trio of guards lying on the other side.

"By the orders of the Jarl, stop right there!"

"I'd really love to trust me," she slid between them, nearly falling onto her face, "But I have a date with this girl named Destiny and she does not like waiting!"

She leapt and rode away on her half-dead horse, which she privately referred to as Mallamont, heading south until they were ambushed by a pack of wolves. The pack were easy to handle, though they did cause quite some physical damage on the stallion. Carciniea already knew she wouldn't be of much help, only stroking the poor mane on Mallamont's hair as it slowly died.

"Welp," she laid the horse's head back on the dirt path, climbing to her feet as Lucien began to form, "We can't be that far away, I mean it's no longer snowy so that has to mean something."

"Listener, you cannot rely on me so much."

"Why not?" She sighed, slumping her shoulders, "Once this crap is said and done, I can go back to the Void right?" There was silence from Lucien. "Right?" She said once more.

"Come." He said at last, "The Pine Forest is ahead, and there will lay the door to the sanctuary."

She reluctantly followed behind him, wondering what would happen to her after the whole Night Mother deal was over. Was she to disappear back into the Void? She certainly hoped so. While there were nice people, there were also many people she would rather not be acquainted with.

Lucien had soon disappeared from her sight once more, whether he had returned back to Sithis' place or simply made it farther into the thicket. Night was beginning to fall once more, the sun dipping below the horizon and certainly out of sight within the trees. Carciniea began regretting her sloppiness in her last contract where she could be fully regenerated and fully awake.

"Hey tidbit," she froze at the sound of Arnbjorn's voice.

She let out a small squeak, quickly compelling any courage she could find. She turned to him, "Yeah? And what're you doing out here?"

"You're lost, aren't you?"

"Silence, fool!" She jabbed a finger at the tip of his nose, "I need no map to show me the way of Sithis, for I am bonded with the Vo-"

"Yeah, yeah," he took her finger, twisting it back. He pointed a finger southwest, "It's that way, so you know."

He released her from his grasp, leaving Carciniea to herself. She rubbed her hand, grumbling to herself, "I'll remember that, mangy mutt..." She followed Arnbjorn's directions, grumbling in annoyance the whole way until she fell off a few rocks.

She made a loud groan, thankful that there was to no one to witness the small mishap. She entered once more, quietly tiptoeing pass the first room where Astrid usually hung around.

"You're back," she heard Astrid say, despite her back facing Carciniea. She put down the book she was reading turning to her, "We need to talk."

Carciniea said nothing, plastering a false smile as she nodded Astrid to go on. "Something's happening. I'm not sure what it is, but it needs to be figured out. If the Night Mother did talk to you about a contact, I- Go to Volruund, is what I'm saying. Talk to this Amaund Motierre, see what he wants, then we'll see where to go from there."

She turned back, leaving Carciniea to herself. "Of course," she finally spoke up, once Astrid was out of earshot, "I don't have other contracts to turn in or anything, you know. And yeah, I think I'm feeling well enough to almost die again."

She passed on into the earthy opening, immediately finding Veezara who had been dipping his feet into the cool pool of water.

She tapped on his shoulder, smiling, "Mind if I join?"

Carciniea couldn't help but feel a sort of attachment to Veezara in the short time she had been in the Skyrim's Dark Brotherhood. Whether or not he realized it, he meant a lot to her. His presence alone brought her comfort.

He nodded, scooting over to make her some room. She plopped down, taking off her shrouded boots before letting them soak in the refreshing water.

"There's been a lot of talk," he pointed out, "People saying that the Night Mother talked to you."

She smirked at this, her mind tracing to Gabriella and Babette. "I'm not exactly proud of it, but it's not like I committed some sort of heinous crime. Yes, she spoke to me, at the most inconvenient time she could pick. Not when she first got here or anything, but right when she was literally right next to me."

She held her face in her hands, letting out a deep sigh, "Now I have to go to some stupid crypt in the north, even though I'm pretty sure Astrid is trying to kill me."

She heard Veezara chuckle, "What would make you say that? She seems to adore you."

"Yes, I feel the adoration through the constant awkward tension whenever we talk. I rarely every say anything back to what she says, mostly because I simply don't want to talk."

He patted her on the back, "Tough love, sister. You are good for giving people that, I can just tell."

Veezara pulled his feet into the chilly air, turning to stand. "It is late and you must be tired," he gave her shoulder a squeeze, "Rest now, journey in the morning."

She felt a familiar sadness droop over her as she felt her friend beginning to leave, something telling her that he wasn't going to stick around in her life forever.

"Veezara," she called, turning her head to peek at him from the corner of her eye, "Things are changing, just as Astrid said. We can't live in this silence forever. The silence you were living in... It's gone, dead, broken. Watch yourself and everything around you, because I don't even know what's going to happen."

There was a long hesitance; it was another few minutes before she heard him continue his walk to bed. She looked back in front of her, wondering if Lucien could hear her voice in the dark depths of the Void. She decided to give it a shot, lowly whispering, "When this is all over, Luce, you owe me."

Instead of going with her original plan to go to Volruund the next morning, Carciniea took a few extra days off to get some extra rest and healing done. She was still sore by the end of the week, but Astrid's constant complaining to get to Volruund soon had hit the peak of Carciniea's patience.

"Why is she suddenly so eager to get me there?" She asked Lucien, as the sanctuary's leader was the current topic of their conversation.

"Astrid is scared. She is not sure what will come of this, and so she is taking caution as to what will happen next."

"Hmph," she chortled, "At least you can prove some help."

Lucien ignored this, his eyes focusing past the snow-covered trees and the small flakes that fell and clumped to the ground.

"I know that look," she commented on the intense gaze in his eyes, poking through him, "How close are we? Hm?"

Lucien remained quiet, blatantly ignoring her to focus. She shuffled through her pockets and pulled out the unevenly folded map. She tore one of the ends of it as she attempted to open it. "Astrid said she marked it for me," she tried to be of some assistance, scanning the map for any marks, "Though I don't see any..."

"No need, Listener. It is right up ahead."

She let out a squeal of excitement, peering over the map to find a small clearing with what looked to her like a large, man-made hole. They grew closer to it, the look of disappointment on Carciniea's face deepened.

"I was something a little more..." She chewed her tongue, shaking her head to think, "A bit more... Grand. Big, large, that sort of thing."

Lucien rolled his eyes at this, giving her a small push over the edge. She hit the floor hard, letting out a whine as rubbed her lower butt, "That kind of hurt..."

She struggled to stand back up, hesitating to open the entrance doors. "I have a weird feeling about this... Lucien?" She turned around to see she was by herself once more. "Asshat..."

She stepped over the spare bones from the last guests who entered the ruins, busy wondering what had happened to trip and fall over a battle axe belonging to the Ancient Nords. She rolled down the stairs, mumbling to herself as she finally came to a stop on the flat ground, "I am not a graceful flower..."

"Did you hear that?" She heard a faint whisper not too far from where she was.

Carciniea sat up, hearing even more chatter coming just west of her. She scrambled to her feet, following the sound of the voices as she found a small pile of Draugr just outside a closed door.

She swiped away any lingering dirt on her outfit and hair, "Give it your best shot, Carce."

She opened the door, a tall man in uniform standing in the back as a fellow Breton looked pale and nervous.

"By the almighty Divines..." He let out a gasp, "You've actually come! That damned Sacrament... It actually worked!"

"The Night Mother heard your calling, Motierre. Now speak, what is it you want?"

"Ah, yes. I would like to make a contract- several in fact. To be frank, this may be the biggest operation your organization has dealt with in... Well, in centuries!"

She nodded.

"Er, yes. As I have said, there are many contracts I wish to construct with varied details. But, alas, these deaths only wave the way to biggest target: The Emperor."

It took her a moment to figure out what he meant, though she refused to show any emotion on her face when it finally dawned on her.

"You have to understand. So much planning, time, maneuvering went into this. Now, here you are, just as if the stars have finally aligned! But, I digress on the subject. Here, let me get you something to give to your- uh... To your superior," he clapped his hands, "Rexus! My things!"

The man finally moved, handing her a necklace and a letter. She looked at the beautiful jeweled amulet, secretly hoping there was some way she could keep it. She stuffed the letter into her pocket, nodding to leave.

"Got you a present, Astrid," Carciniea threw the amulet and letter on the nearby table, "Courtesy of Amaund Motierre."

"Did you find out what he wants?" She inquired, delicately picking up the amulet to inspect it.

"He, uh..." Carciniea scratched the back of her head, "Apparently wants us to kill the Emperor."

Astrid picked up the letter, reading it.

"He said something about the necklace being for expenses and whatnot," the smaller of the two explained.

"This is... Big. Maybe too big for us. Nobody has assassinated an Emperorsince Uriel Septim! Do you know how long ago that was? Two hundred years ago!"

Carciniea had let out a terrible cough, her eyes burning as she choked on saliva. "Two hundred?!"

"Yes," Astrid eyed her suspiciously, "You didn't know?"

"N-No, I did, I just forgot is all," she laughed, "Silly me, always forgetting things!"

"As I was saying," the Nord straightened her back, "I'm still not sure if you are, in fact, the Listener or if this is just some fluke- But this, this is something we can't afford to slip."

"So what? We're accepting his contract?"

"You're damn right! I wouldn't waste such a fruitful opportunity to lead my Family to glory. I- This is quite a lot to take in." Astrid held up the amulet, a smirk beginning to appear.

"What're you thinking about?" Carciniea was not liking the looks of this so far.

"Before we actually get anywhere, we should get this amulet appraised first. I know a guy in the Ratway, he's a fence and will take a look at it. His name's Delvin Mallory, tell him I sent you."

"Alright," she nodded, leaving to go look for her friends, "I have no idea where that could be, but alright."

She searched throughout the sanctuary looking for one of her friends, sighing as he was nowhere to be seen. She stood, leaving the comfort of her bedside, beginning to walk down the wooden steps before tripping and falling.

"You sure are a clumsy little Breton," she heard Nazir comment, witnessing this.

She scrambled to her feet, bowing in respect, "Nazir! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there! Have you seen Veezara?"

"Our little lizard? I believe he's busy on a contract, as you should be."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She began to bawl, collapsing into a seat near him, "I managed to slay them, though the last one kind of, heh-"

"Say no more, say no more," he handed her a larger than average bag of gold, "If it is done, it is done friend."

She cooed over the sound of jangling gold, snapping out of her trance as she remembered her small problem, "Nazir, do you know where the Ratway is? I've never heard of it."

"A little tavern for drunken, lowlife thieves," he took a sip of mead, "Right under Riften. You've been there, haven't you?"

"Of course I have!" This was truth for once, remembering her killing of the headmistress from the terrible orphanage, "Ah, memories..."

"Then that's where you start," he patted her on the back.


	7. A Wedding Not to Forget

"Oh, ohh now where did you get this beauty? Special crafted for the Emperor's Elder Council. I'd ask where you got this, but from what you look like, I think I'd rather-"

"Will you buy it?"

"Buy it? Oh, yes indeed I will." Carciniea turned to leave, ready to get out of the underground slumhole.

"Wait," Delvin Mallory handed out a sealed letter, arm extended out to her, "Give this letter of credibility back to your lovely mistress. Should serve you all well, as it should considering out original agreement. Tell Astrid to come give us a visit."

She gingerly picked the letter from his hands, careful enough to stash it into her pocket. She exited the Ragged Flagon, navigating through the tunnels of the Ratway to the dank, murky waters below Riften. The foul odor from the water made her mind trace back to Bravil, only with more class. She climbed up the steps, a light fog had surrounded the city, clustering around the waterways below. She was in no hurry to travel back, but harmlessly travel through to kill time.

"You know," she finally spoke as she felt an additional presence near her, "It seems the more away from home I am, the more this becomes my home." She turned to back to face Lucien, a wry smile on her face, "Ironic, isn't it?"

She walked behind the temple of Mara, glowering as she stopped in front of a shrine of the hero-god, Talos.

"The Aedra..." She breathed, her face contorting to one of disgust, "How pathetic people are to idolize them. The Aedra are boring, the Daedra are self-absorbed douchebags, but Sithis- Sithis is a vengeful god, one I can relate to."

"Why the sudden bilious mood?" Lucien asked, a glimmer of concern in his eyes. "You usually seem more cheerful and radiant."

Carciniea stood there eerily silent, watching the torch bugs flicker in the dense air. She held a hand out for one, catching the smallest of the luminescent bugs in her hand.

"I'm not very sure," she murmured, watching the small bug flicker on and off in her hand, "I haven't been seeing very much of you lately, and we all know what happens to the loneliest of hearts... I just need answers, if you will."

"You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat."

"Maybe so, but does the cat not have eight extra lives to continue wondering?"

The little bug flew away, joining its little friends, "Just some peace of mind is all I ask."

"Oh, but my dear Carciniea. I happen to like you this way: Quiet, professional, low key. It brings a more mysterious air to you."

A ghost of a smile flickered across her face, "You called me by my name. That's not really something I hear from you much, is it?" She turned to him, "I'm not saying spoil everything for me-"

"Then let me not spoil it. I am not omnipotent, I cannot answer everything. You are here for a reason beyond my knowledge, and I am put to charge of guiding you and making sure you are safe."

"Then they should've put you here with me!" Carciniea began to fume, catching the eye of one of the Rift's guards. She caught herself, smiling as she waved a hand toward the guard, "Sorry, just talking to myself!" Her smile faded as the guard continues their rounds.

"You do not believe I miss being among the living?" Lucien hissed, "How I miss being in the field, being in your position? If I had a second chance to serve under the Mother, I would not waste a second-"

"Then try. Don't do it for me, but for you," she faced him once more, feeling her eyes begin to dampen, "We could finish contracts together, go on journeys and I wouldn't have to worry about you disappearing, and we could dance the night away."

He laid a hand on her cheek, one finger stroking and wiping away any tears. "I already know my answer. If it was my choice, it would have been like that from the start," he leaned in to lay a kiss on her cheek, despite not being able to feel it, "Good night, Carciniea."

She felt her legs begin to shake, her voice cracking as she let out a soft sob. "G-Good night," she said to the nothing before her. She rubbed her upper arms, the cool air finally getting the best of her. She cleared her voice, her eyes floating up to look at the twinkling stars blanketing the pitch black sky, "I love you, Mr. Lachance..."

"Is the amulet authentic?" Astrid asked upon hearing Carciniea climb down the stone steps.

"Yes, actually. He also mentioned it being specially made for members of the Elder Council," she handed over the letter of credit, leaning against a wall.

"What a naughty, naughty boy that Motierre is," she chuckled, taking the letter and sliding it inside her shirt, "Did Mallory say if we was willing to buy it?"

"Obviously," Carciniea scoffed. "Good. Now we're- Or should I say, _you_ are ready to begin. I hope you have something nice to wear because you're going to a wedding."

"I am so sick and tired of- Excuse me? A wedding?"

"Oh yes. Eat some cake, drink some wine, make a friend or two, kill the bride..." She cackled, "That's your target- The Emperor's cousin. Kill her while she's addressing guests, she'll be in Solitude near the Temple of Divines."

She took this information and left, not very interested in discussing with Astrid any further. She ventured further, slowly losing any interest in conversing with Veezara or Babette, only wanting to sleep her foul mood away.

"LISTENER!" Squeaked a high-pitched voice, knocking her onto the ground.

"Cicero," she groaned, trying to put her vision back into focus. There, sitting on top of her, was merry Cicero with a wide grin, "Oh, my Listener! Cicero's certainly missed his Listener, as it had been almost a fortnight since he last saw her."

He helped her up, Carciniea realizing she was shorter than another person yet again. His eyes glimmered with interest as he watched Carciniea with a sort of admiration. They battled with their eyes, she waited for him to try something or to knock her down. Still, he remained in front of her as loyal as a dog.

"You're not so bad, are you?" She tussled his hair, chuckling, "Once you get past the assault and everything, you're adorable."

"Whatever I can do to please the Listener," he chimed, his grin stretching from ear to ear. She observed his clothes, remembering what Astrid had said about fine clothing. "Maybe, maybe..." She thought aloud, shaking her head, "Nevermind, no, that can wait. Hard to think of what people may think about a jester... No, no, too obvious." She walked on, contemplating what sort of disguise should she don for the wedding.

"A wedding," Lucien spoke up, observing the festivities around them, "How... Dreadful. To be bound until death, to someone who is destined to rot in the dirt as everyone else."

Carciniea snickered at this, pulling up the sleeve of a large work shirt that was obviously much to big for her, "To think, how terrible it is to love something death can touch."

"Now you're thinking like a murderer," Lucien let out a laugh, "So, tell me, how did you plan on killing her?"

"Pretty simple, I was thinking of you a few nights ago, then a little idea popped into my head," she searched through the crowd to find the honored couple. She held up a green apple with light red blotches around it, "Poisoned apple. People never think of it anymore, so why not start a trend?"

She's finally caught eye of the couple, Vittoria Vici smiling happily as she watched the bards dance and sing in her honor.

"Observe," she winked at Lucien.

She addressed the happy couple, bowing in respect as she held out the single apple to the bride specifically. "Your mistress," she placed the apple in Vici's hand, "I am but a poor farm girl who idolized you as a child. I may be poor, but this freshly grown fruit she serve just as much as anything."

"How kind of you," Vittoria beamed up at her, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please, make yourself comfortable and enjoy yourself. It's the least I could ask in return."

She nodded, turning to her back to the couple with a malicious look on her face. She traveled to the far back, watching Vittoria's every movement as she leaned against the cool, shady wall.

"Any second now," she breathed, excitement dripping from her tongue, "She'll be as alive as you are."

They watched the couple talk and laugh, enjoying their celebration. She watched as Vittoria laid the apple to the side, standing and beginning their short journey to the balcony.

"Why isn't she dead," Carciniea began to seeth, her hand bashing against the stone wall, "She's suppose to be on the floor, not smiling and walking."

"Perhaps you should catch her while she is addressing the crowd?" He suggested, taking too much pleasure out of this.

"N- Yes, yes..." She begin to smile again, crouching, "That will do just fine."

She followed shortly after them, meeting their backs on the balcony. She gripped her knife, slowly taking quiet steps toward Vici as her hand began to tremble from excitement. This was sure to get her in trouble with the Haafingar guards, but she didn't mind so much. She drove the blade through the bride's stomach, pushing her over the edge.

Carciniea reveled in the disbelieving gasps that filled the air, pushing Asgeir to the side as she jumped over the ledge and fell on Vittoria's body, taking back her dagger and the bridal wreath.

She stood up, staring back at all the horrified expressions. "Don't you just love a good wedding?" She laughed.

A few guards rushed in, the older guests as well teamed up to bring her down. It was about six against one, which hardly seemed fair. Not too long after she tried to fend herself, one of the guards had dropped from an unexpected guest.

"Veezara?" She couldn't help but feel ecstatic to see him, her dagger rushing past him and into the lower stomach of a guard, "Didn't expect to see you here. Never pegged you as the guy to like weddings."

He shrugged, but nevertheless delighted to see his friend, "Astrid sent me to keep an eye on you. Didn't mean to kill your buzz or anything, from the looks. You looked pretty happy." He chuckled before pointing with his sword, "I'll meet you at the sanctuary. I'll be fine. Go on!"

She reluctantly nodded, not entirely comfortable with the idea of leaving her friend behind. She found a more discreet exit out of the city, ditching her large clothes to reveal the shrouded armor she wore underneath. She didn't stop running until she crossed in Hjaalmarch.

"Stupid Astrid, who does she think she is?" Carciniea started up on her rant for the third time since they left Solitude, "Me? Assistance? I'm one of the damn finest assassins she's got! She just sits there, twiddling her thumbs that-"

"You looked like you needed help, so why make such a fuss?" Lucien groaned.

"Why? _WHY_? She acts like I never held a weapon before, that's why! You and me know that's as wrong as Nazir in a maiden's dress. And let me tell you, that is not a pretty image." She slumped her shoulders, grumbling to herself. She held up the floral crown, "At least I have a little trophy. Never been to a wedding, so that was pretty cool."

They traveled off the road, heading down into the small hill as the Black Door came into view.

"She'll be lucky if she doesn't get an earful from me..." She sighed, opening the door.

She entered inside, hearing Astrid cackling down came into eye's view, a grin beginning to form as Astrid surprisingly showered her with pride.

"Let's see the Emperor try to ignore this!" She threw her head back to laugh, "His dear cousin, murdered at her own wedding!"

She tossed Carciniea a large bag, much heavier than it appeared, "Go and talk to Gabriella when you're feeling up to a little more mischief. I do believe now you deserve rest, for a job well done."

She gave a nod, her eyelids were heavy and needing rest, but the rest of her was still craving more action in the thought it would only be kind to wait up for Veezara, thanking him for helping her back there.

"I thought you were going to give her an earful?" Lucien asked, the sound of his voice making her jump.

"You're still here?!" She growled in a harsh whisper, "Usually you've disappeared by now."

"I was thinking about what you have been saying, plus the Void does get lonely without a companion..."

She grinned at him, rolling her eyes as she went onward, "You miss me, whether you admit it or not."

She went up a small pile of stairs, entering the sacred room that contained the Night Mother and her coffin. In truth, Carciniea wasn't there to talk down to the Unholy Matron, but because she wanted to observe what was behind the corpse.

"Every time I enter the sanctuary, I always see this," her head nodded to the stained glass that laid behind the sarcophagus, "It's beautiful, is it not?"

"It is, indeed."

"But now, I can't help but notice," she approached it, maneuvering herself around the unlit candles, "See these little engravings? This one, the one on the right, it looks more feminine and lively. The other looks more ghostly, in a sense, and also-"

"You are trying to say it looks like us," there was a sharp tone to his words. She cringed at the idea of angering him.

"Well, yes..." She began, sitting herself on the hard ground, "I'm not trying to upset you, I'm just-"

"No, not upset me, but guilt me into sympathizing you and show false affection. I know how you feel, you have shown me undying devotion from the second you laid eyes on me," his eyes narrowed, "Yet here I am, never once returning the affection."

A deep silence loomed through the room, Lucien refused to show any signs of guilt for what he said. Carciniea bit her lip, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"I just wished you would understand," she whimpered, hiding a piece of her face behind her knees, "You'll say or do something sweet, become all I ever think about- Then this happens. I'm sorry for the guilt and everything, I am! I just-" Lucien held up a hand, already predicting her next few words. She quieted down, rubbing away a few tears that stained her cheeks. She crawled over to a seat nearby Lucien, curling up on it. It was old and creaked when she laid he weight on it, but it was certainly more comfortable than the floor.

"Lucien?" He rested a hand on the back of her head, stroking her dark colored hair. Her eyes began to close on their own, her breathing began to steady once more.

"My Listener, how many I times must I tell you?" She heard him try to console her, his voice much softer than the aggressive mood it took on a moment earlier, "Move on, find a nice boy, find some happiness out of this life. You don't need to confine yourself to a solitary life with only me. I can't be your everything."

She struggled to wake up and protest; she wanted to tell him he was wrong, terribly wrong for thinking that. She wanted to tell him he was already everything she needed and would wait as long as she needed. But, this only came out in groans as sleep took her into its clutches at the last second.

_Fire had emitted from the darkness around her, the dark void around taking on form. At first, it had seem as if she was in the middle of war. Though she soon realized it was not war itself, she was in fact in the very center of a battlefield. There were soldiers, many of them that could barely be made out. The large, dancing flames took great contrast to the rest of the vague setting and characters._

_There was a mighty roar, a howling that was once more heard at any earlier time. Another form took on from the soldiers; these lied limp and unmoving, a few were almost dragging themselves away. There was screaming, begging, wailing, shrieking and other terrible noises that all held one simple undertone._

_It was, at first, very audible and could barely be deemed a low hum. The humming grew louder, snickering and laughing that soon drowned out the painful cries. The laughter was soon all that could be heard, echoing. There was something deeper in this laughter, a tone that could only be understood by another of its kind. It was madness, pure and simple in its form_.

Carciniea had woken up from the strange dream, her peripheral vision was blurred, she strained to see. She rubbed the crusty gunk out of her eyes in hopes it could help. She felt the warmth of a thick, woolen blanket cover her torso, upper arms, and legs. She wondered if someone had came in and covered her, or if this was Lucien's obscure affection.

"Have you awaken?" She heard a familiar voice.

She noticed her reflexes had as well been slowed down as she slept, an ache in her neck emerged as she craned to see Veezara looming over her. "I tried waiting for you," she weakly smiled.

"So I see," he clasped her shoulders, helping her reposition to sitting up straight. "Gabriella has been awaiting you. Something told me you would be here."

"Gabri-?" Her eyes bugged, groaning as her head fell back, "Shit, I forgot about her. You know where she is?"

"I don't think that information is useless now," she heard Gabriella chime in, leaning against the doorway, "I understand sleep is important, but don't you think sleeping until the late afternoon is, well... Over doing it?"

"Afternoon? Wait, then what time is it?" She shrugged, "The sun should be setting in an hour or so. Maybe a little less, who knows. Shall we get down to business while there is still daylight?"

Gabriella took out a folded sheet of parchment, tossing it in her direction.

"Since the Emperor's arrival is a certainty, we'll have to breach his security if we want to get anywhere near him. Your objective is Gaius Maro, the son of head security. Take him down, plant the incriminating evidence, and our job is that much simpler. Got it?"

"Yeah... I think... I do," she nodded in confirmation.

"Good. Now the real fun begins," she laguhed, a cold shiver running up Carciniea's spine at the thought of what this 'fun' could be. "Let's say you take Maro down in one of the capital cities, hm? You do just that, and I'll give you a little bonus I think you'd like. I have a friend in Whiterun who gives future readings to anyone holding her tokens. Is that a deal?"

_Don't do it_, she thought. _Take the easy road out, take him the second he's alone, nothing too stressful._

"Sure, why not," she nodded, her palm mentally slapping her forehead. It wasn't a total failure, though. She did have an interest in that sort of thing, may it be true or not.


	8. Through the Eyes of Another

"You could have just followed my directions and followed the road," Lucien called to his companion, climbing over one of Haafingar's smaller mountains, "Could save you quite the trouble."

"I could," she panted, pulling herself over onto a flat surface, "But that's not exactly fun. Plus, this is easier for reconnaissance and whatnot."

Lucien wondered how he could have ever gotten tangled up in this mess - He was trained murderer with an insatiable appetite to kill, yet here her was, playing tag-along with no real physical contact to the world.

"What's with the lolly gagging?" She called back to him, "You seem really distracted today. Is everything alright?"

He snapped out of his little trance, "Yes, yes. Forgive me, my mind is far from missing." He caught up to her, the two taking in the sight of the forests below.

Carciniea crouched down in an effort to help catch her breath, though she was nonetheless astonished at the sights below them. "Hey Luce, didn't you mention at one point you traveled here?"

"I may have, yes."

"Was it any different from now?"

He sat beside her, his mind tracing back to an earlier age, at a much earlier time. "Nothing too drastic, may I say. I traveled here when I was still a wandering adventurer, even then I had a bloodlust. But that was before I met the Brotherhood and before I knew what I was put here for."

"And what would that be?" She sang, smiling as she imagined a younger Lucien, shy and nervous. Her mental portrayal was probably not very accurate as to how he really acted, but the thought of it still gave her butterflies.

"To serve the Dread Lord as best I can. And, from what I grasp, I still have much to learn..." He grimaced as his voice slowly trailed off.

"Don't say that," Carciniea's voice took on a more serious demeanor, "Please, you're the greatest thing that ever happened to the Brotherhood. Why, look at it now, because there's not another Lachance to look after it. You're a hero."

Her words echoed through vast emptiness, the wind carrying her heavy words through the mountains. She prepared her meek self for Lucien to snap at her, telling her to get over herself. To her surprise, he gave her a gentle smile; he placed a hand on her knee.

"You give me too much credit," he chuckled, "Moments like these make me wonder what could have happened if you were first to return to Applewatch instead."

A tear caught her by surprise, blurring the edge of her vision. She wiped it away, nonchalantly answering, "I would've been relieved, that's for sure. I already know what I would've done, actually." She looked to him, "I would've hugged you and tell you how much I love you."

He gave her knee a tight squeeze before releasing her from his grasp. He scanned through the settings around them, taking in a breath of the crisp air, "We still have a ways to go, I see."

"Still?! I thought Dragon's Bridge would right over this mountain!" Carciniea fell onto her back. "Not fair..." The light of the sun that was now positioned straight above that blinded her momentarily.

Her mind flashed to a question she had meant to ask for a while: "Have you ever been in love?"

"I was young, even then did I loyally serve the Brotherhood," his tone turned into a grim one, a cold breeze brushing through, "But, when you murder there always ends up a bounty. I was out of control with this desire to kill- That is when I met her." Carciniea's expression hardened at the mention of this other woman. "She was a bounty collector, always chasing me no matter where I went," he pressed on, "We had ups and downs; as much as she denied it, we were in love. I did not brag about it to my fellow members, of course, but when I saw her- There was a distinct undertone of the threats and the attacks."

"She sounds like she wasn't interested," Carciniea pouted.

"There was a particular night she managed to keep me busy for a few hours. I had time to spare, and she used up every last second. That must have been the one contract I could not manage to complete," he turned his head to capture a glimpse of her from his peripheral vision, "And do you know what happened to her?"

"She moved on like she should have?"

"You are upset by the topic," he observed, "But no, if it means anything to you, I killed her. I was given the contract to slay her and so I did. I loved her, kept her and her memories dear to me. I could not help but savor her screams as my blade cut the life from her beautiful body. It oozed over my hands and I licked it clean from my blade. She was afraid, but is that not the beauty of death? You are no longer a soldier, nor a slave, a trader, a warrior, not even a killer. You are but a child; a scared, cold little child fighting with all your strength to just... Reach out and grasp that fading sunlight before you. Alas, a mere twist of the hilt and it all goes black. Her soul become one with the Void and so shall it be." He crouched down, facing her. "Now you see, my Listner. Now you see why I choose to be so reserved. This is why I choose to devout my life to my work and to the Dread Father, ignoring anything and everything else. This is why I choose to ignore your romantic feelings."

"I'm not going to stop," she finally met eyes with him, "You know I'm not. If nothing stopped me before, then what makes you think I'm ready to give up hope on you?"

He chuckled to himself, turning away from her. "You truly are my protégé, then. Stubborn, strong-willed... I would say obedient, but there is no doubt you and I differ on the subject. But, we have spent too much daylight already sitting here and reminiscing away. We must get to Dragon's Bridge soon before Maro is gone."

"You got it, boss," she gave a thumbs up, slowly beginning the climb down onto safe and solid ground.

It wasn't until around the early evening that Dragon's Bridge came into view, the two were careful to stay out of plain view and take a look at everything from a safe distance. Carciniea managed to climb onto a few roofs, holding onto dear life to the thick, bound hay that she wouldn't fall off and get caught. As she remained hidden, she managed to find Gaius Maro with a young, fair woman. She overheard them exchange a few words:

"You're doing what you're doing and that alone makes me proud. But... Just make sure you come back to me, you hear?"

"Faida, I may be traveling alone, but I carry you with my always in my heart. See you soon, dear," he kissed her forehead, giving her one last smile before heading on.

She crawled onto the other side, landing on the safe dirt. "Okay, Luce, so what's the plan again?"

"Perhaps grabbing his schedule inside could help us stay one step ahead."

"Aha!" She wagged a finger, as if she was the one who figured it out, "... So, how do we do that? Wait- No, I know! I just hang around the door nonchalantly as if I have nothing better to do, you go in and whisk it underneath the doorway, I pick it up, voilà!"

"I suppose, yes," he sighed, disappearing from her sight.

She took this as a cue of action, casually strutting to the front of the post. She leaned near the doorway, her eyes glancing from the floor to somewhere off in the distance to avoid Commander Maro's intense stare. The letter finally slipped out, Carciniea instantly darting for it as she made as a hasty getaway. Lucky for her, Commander Maro looked very suspicious of her.

She fumbled to open it up, scanning over the note. "Day, day, day... What day is it? Morndas, yes, but-"

"The evening will begin shortly, once the sun is halfway down..."

"... Then when he's asleep in Solitude, I can strike him there and plant the evidence!" Lucien nodded in agreement, Carciniea striking a punch in the air, "Gods, I am good."

She headed off to the capital city of the province, silently hoping to herself the city guards wouldn't take too much notice of her. And to her luck, they didn't. She slipped right through them, avoiding their suspicious gazes and headed inside.

"Quite a city," she admired, the evening sky complimenting the town's structures, "Reminds me of my childhood home. Very nice, thrived with people and business, until the Crisis happened... I can't seem to recall the name of the city."

"Do not get too distracted," Lucien warned, his ghostly aura contrasting brightly to the darker surroundings. "Maro shouldn't be too far."

She rolled her eyes, pulling out Maro's schedule. "Castle Dour," she pointed out, "Lucien, this is where you come in."

"Stay close." He lead on, Carciniea following not too far behind.

She began to follow, noticing a pack of torch-wielding guards traveling together. There was Gaius Maro, the only one want that didn't hold a torch in the small group. He stuck out like a sore thumb, when an idea came into her head.

"Listener?" Lucien questioned, noticing Carciniea diverting her attention as she went head first into the group. She apologized and excused herself repeatedly, squirming her way through the small crowd when Maro closed in on her, his eyes looking past her as if she was a ghost. She silently and quickly took out her dagger, pushing it into his lower stomach. She heard him let out a gasp and small grunt, a smirk danced across her face as she whispered, "Sorry." He struggled some, before collapsing against her. She quietly let him down, slipping the incriminating letter into his hand. She laid him on the ground, slipping the dagger in her boot instead as she quickly made her way deeper into the town.

"Not exactly our forté, but cunning nonetheless," Lucien commented, leaning against a cemetery fence.

Carciniea hopped over it, stretching her arms, "At least the deed is done. Still, I can't help but feel a bit... Sad. You know, cause he died."

"Those prone to regret are not cut out for our line of work, my Listener," Lucien reminded, "Using Gaius Maro as a pawn in his own father's destruction should give you nothing but pleasure. Gaius should feel lucky to have been such an integral part in the plan to return the Dark Brotherhood to its former glory."

"I know, I know... I wonder if everything is alright back at the sanctuary," she collapsed to the ground, leaning against one of the old tombstones, "I don't how to explain it, I just have this weird feeling that- Oh." She noticed her spectral friend had vanished once more, the world around her feeling that much colder. "That's okay," she spoke to the vacant air, "No big deal."

"I've been waiting," Gabriella greeted Carciniea around the entrance.

"Gaius Maro lies dead," the smaller Breton girl bowed in return.

"Yes, we know. And as I promised, you're bonus," she tossed her a small coin bag along with a small blue gem, Now that's out of the way we have more personal matters here."

"I... Don't understand."

"It's Cicero. There's been a little incident. Head on into the sanctuary, Astrid will be waiting." Gabriella waved a dismissive hand, Carciniea immediately darting to underground opening. A rush of fear shot through and twisted her stomach at the sound of the news.

Further in, almost everyone crowded around a wounded Veezara. There was blood on the ground, a foul smell ran through. Everyone looked shocked or surprised; Astrid's face was even flushed as it looked as if she had been crying.

"Relax, Veezara. Let the elixir do its work and you'll be up again in no time," Babette instructed, picking up an empty, rosy red bottle.

"What in Oblivion happened?" Carciniea gasped, rushing to her friend's side. "Are you okay?"

"Cicero is what happened!" Astrid snapped, cutting off Veezara before he had a chance to reply to Carciniea's question. "The little fool went berserk, harmed Veezara, and tried to kill me! I knew he couldn't be trusted..."

"There's got to be a reason! It's not like he woke up and decided to go on a rampage. What happened?"

"He went ranting and raving about how the Night Mother was the true leader, saying Astrid was just a 'pretender'." Nazir shrugged, "I have to admit, the whole ordeal was a bit... Unpredicted."

"Damn it!" Astrid stomped a foot on the ground, wiping her eyes. She grabbed Carciniea by the forearm, squeezing it tightly. "We have to deal with this- _You_ have to deal with this."

Carciniea snatched her arm away. "I'm sorry? I don't-" She paused mid-sentenced. Her eyes carefully examined everyone around them. Cicero was unstable, so who knows how many members he has potential of killing. Even if they bested him, that's still one more life lost. There was something about Cicero that was important; something about him that would keep her awake at night. "Actually... Yes, yes. What do you want me to do?"

"Find my husband, first of all. He went into a rage and went after that little jester. Once you find him and he's alright, end that little fool's life. Go into his room and search for any clues where he went, I'm going to see to Veezara and calm everyone down."

Carciniea turned to leave, when a thought came into her head. "Hey, Astrid." She turned back, awaiting a response. Carciniea gave a comforting smile to her and then to Veezara, "Everything is going to be okay."

"I trust your words," Veezara returned the smile, nodding.

"We'll just have to see," Astrid turned back to the group, but it didn't affect Carciniea. Something told her everything, in the end, was going to be alright and she clung to that hope like a torchbug to a candle.

"To be bested by a fool... Now who's the real fool?" Veezara sadly chuckled to himself.

Babette gave him a small hug, patting his good shoulder as an attempt to keep him in Hugh spirits. Hush now, you were very brave. Astrid may not be here if it not for you," she encouraged, getting a few chuckles from the others.

But for Carciniea, all the happiness drained from her face as she turned to leave. She took a small detour, ending up in the large room where the Night Mother and her coffin laid. She forced the doors open, the smell of death filling the room.

"Is this it?" She coldly asked, "To be recognized as the true leader? So you had Cicero go bizarre and had him hurt my friend? I'm not going to help you, no, you naïve, rotting bitch. Astrid may not be my favorite person, but I like her much more than I tolerate you. Get a new fan club somewhere else, because I don't want any part of it."

She didn't bother waiting for a response, even doubting she would receive one. Her only concern was to find Cicero, then decide what she was going to do. She was reluctant to the idea of killing him, since she knew there was something they weren't telling her, but her mind flashed back to what Lucien said back at Solitude: "_Those prone to regret are not cut out for our line of work_."

She entered Cicero's room, noticing how his rampage even affected the room. She tapped her chin, rummaging through the disorganized items. "If I were a traitorous madman, how would I handle my thoughts and feelings?" She wondered aloud. As if on cue, her eyes found a couple journals that laid scattered on a couple boxes in the corner. She picked up the one closest, opening it to the front page to read _Volume 1_.

She sat down against the boxes, her curiosity getting the best of her as she flipped through and read the small journal. "_Let this volume serve as the personal record of one man, a lowly assassin who has pledged his blade and his life for the Dark Brotherhood_," she read, a smile catching her, "Sounds like Lucien."

She continued to read on, quietly awaiting for Lucien to materialize and hopefully explain this all to her. Near the later beginning of the journal, a small piece caught her eye and tugged hard on her heartstrings. "... This Sactuary knows suffering, knows sorrow, for the ghosts of Purification still haunts its halls," she dropped the journal on her lap, releasing a heavy sigh. She quickly snapped out of it, pushing those regretful memories into a corner of her mind for the time being.

"Time is being wasted," spoke Lucien as he materialized in her peripheral vision. "And Cicero's life becomes more endangered with each passing minute."

"Lucien- Really, have you read this? It's... It's brilliant," she said in awe, "Cicero... He seemed so intelligent, almost poetic in a sense. It was like I was reading about a whole 'nother person."

"_Listener_."

"Okay, okay. I know, but what really happened? Where is Cicero?" She asked, slowly growing anxious.

He did not reply; instead, a cold breeze gusted through to the opposite side of the room.

Carciniea took this as a hint, slowly placing the journal back on the crate and noticed another journal, flipped open, on top of a nightstand. She slowly picked it up, reading aloud from the page it was on: "I've been reading of Skyrim, of the good days, the old days, of the Old Ways. There was another Sanctuary once - A Dawnstar Sanctuary. Good, ancient and strong. Blessed by Sithis. Cicero will go there! No need of Astrid! The Mother and I will settle, and she will speak to me, finally, and we will build the Old Ways anew, together." She turned the page, skimming through before finally reading: "The Black Door will ask, 'What is life's greatest illusion?' And I am to answer, 'Innocence, my brother.'"

Lucien nodded. "What will be your choice?"

"I... I..." She hesitated, "Aren't you suppose to tell me that? I don't even know the full story!"

"I have told you before, I cannot always instruct you on what to do."

"Tell me, dammit! I'm so torn, I feel like I would be making a mistake either way!" She collapsed into her hands, her fingers knotting and pulling her hair. She let out a huff, collecting herself altogether before she popped like a balloon. "Okay, okay I'm ready."

"You have made up your mind?"

"Not even close, I'm just going to take this one step at a time."

She began to leave and return to Astrid, Lucien speaking up before she left the Keeper's room, "You may kill this jester if you so desire, but there is a disturbance in the Void. Our Dread Father does not wish this."

She halted for a single moment, only to say: "You know, Lucien, he reminds me of you and Bellamont. Your undying allegiance to this Brotherhood, with a madness akin to the Traitor's. This, my friend, is why I find is so hard to decide. If the Dread Father does not wish this, I will heed his word." She left.

"Have you found something?" Astrid asked, helping Veezara onto his feet.

"I've got a lead he's heading to an abandoned Sanctuary in Dawnstar. I... Have the pass phrase."

"Why? What for? Gah, it doesn't matter now. Take my horse, Shadowmere. You'll find him by the pool. Every minute counts, so don't waste it. Find my husband, then tear open that little jester's throat."

She followed after Astrid and Nazir, both keeping the wounded Veezara steady and leading him to his bed. "Astrid, please, can't we work this out?"

"Look, the Brotherhood is home, it's a family. We have ancient wizards, ten-year old vampires, werewolves, more! But Cicero, he can't look past an outdated fashion and embrace the new. Now look where it got him."

"Well, what set him off? He wouldn't do this out of nowhere."

"To be honest, I'm not exactly discreet about this situation. You know, the Night Mother, you being the Listener and all. No offense. But I may have been talking to the other members and, well... I may not have been quite respectful."

"That's okay, I suppose. I do the same thing actually. You know, you being an damnable leader, incompetent almost. No offense," she mocked Astrid's tone, nonchalantly shrugging it off, "Now that's out there, I suppose I have to go play hero and find you're husband."

She left the sanctuary, heading outside to confirm what Astrid had said. That woman worked wonders on her nerves, but she didn't count her as a liar. A black mist covered the eerily quiet pond, bubbles rising to the surface and rippling the strangely dark water.

A black horse with glowing red eyes emerged, a wide grin setting across Carciniea's face as she went to pet it, "Hey, there. You remember me?" The horse replied by softly whining and nuzzling its nose against her.

"Yeah, you remember me alright. We sure have changed, haven't we?" She smiled sadly, "Wanna go on one last adventure?"

Shadowmere neighed with excitement. She went to its side, mounting and climbing on top of the dark horse.

"Lucien," she addressed her indivisible friend, though he was out of her sight, "I'll meet you at the Dawnstar Sanctuary."

Carciniea and Shadowmere rode north, making it deep into the night. She could feel they were close, feeling a slight nip in the air which slowly turned into heavy snow coming down on them. It was this freezing cold that she found to stay awake easier. The small town coming into view, the city dead with the exception of a few guards on patrol.

"Arnbjorn?" She called, sliding off of Shadowmere and onto the snowy grass. She followed along the shore line heading east, calling his name repeatedly.

"Humph. Had a hunch Astrid would send you," she heard a faint growl not too far. She passed by a few more rocks to find a Black Door, and Arnbjorn sitting in a pool of blood. One hand clutched his shoulder.

"You're welcome," she rolled her eyes, stretching a hand out to him, "Come on, you're hurt."

"Really? I didn't notice," he snickered, taking her hand and help lifted himself to his feet, "Ha ha ha ha... I admit, that jester is good with that little stick of a butter knife. But that's okay, I gave it as good as I got."

"I need to know where Cicero is." Her eyes wandered back to the door, "He's in there, isn't he?"

He slightly cocked his head back, "Yeah. I would've gone after him, but I don't know the phrase."

"Good thing I do. I got Cicero, alright? Take Shadowmere and go home. You need rest. Astrid is worried sick about you."

"Sounds good, but I think I'll walk. Don't think I'd be very useful anyway. He cut me pretty deep. But I slashed him good, too. Hopefully severed an artery. Follow the blood, should lead you right to him."

She nodded, slowly making her way to the door. She could hear its ghostly voice ring out, "_What is life's greatest illusion_?"

"Innocence, my brother."

"Welcome home." The hand glowed, the door creaking open on its own. She entered the sanctuary, firmly closing the old door behind her.

She took a few steps forward, her hands rubbing her forearms in an attempt to warm them. "Cicero? Hello?"

"Listener! Is that you? Oh, yes! Send the best to defeat the best! Astrid knew her damned pup couldn't kill old Cicero!"

She made her way through the door, sprinting ahead to meet railings that prevented her from descending the stairs. She felt desperate, needy, almost exhilarated. "Cicero, please! It's okay, I'm here! You can trust me, please Cicero," she begged, shaking the bars out of rage.

She felt a cold, ripping pain slice horizontally across her back. She let out a yelp of surprise, her good hand darting to her dagger. She turned back to see Lucien finishing a ghostly guardian of the sanctuary.

"Stay alert," he advised, leading the way to a detour.

"No, no, no! This isn't what Mother would want! No, not at all! You kill the Keeper or I kill the Listener? Why- Why that's madness!"

"Cicero listen to me! I can help you! Please, just let me in. Let me help!" She called, wandering onto an old rickety bridge. Thankfully for Lucien's timing, he demanded her to halt in time to let a rusty old spear strike through, one more step and it could have killed her.

"My home is well defended. I've always been a stickler to details! Geddit? 'Stick-ler'? Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, I still got it!" Carciniea couldn't help but smile at the pun, though she did her best to conceal her amusement.

"It doesn't have to be like this!" Her expression quickly melted into one of worry as she maneuvered her way around the old spears, Lucien was already ahead and fighting off another guardian.

They made it down the stairway, Cicero's voice ringing through once more. This time, in a more doubtful manner: "Y-You're still alive? I respect the Listener's abilities, of course, but... Could we slow down a bit? I'm not exactly what I used to be. Heh, heh..."

Carciniea found a closed door, knowing deep in her heart it would lead her to her little jester. She tried to push and force the door open, letting out a pained groan as it was barred on the other side. She turned around, her back to the door. "Cicero, please, I know you're in there," she begged, "I have been commanded to kill you, but I refuse to. Don't you see? I know what it's like to be alone, please, I can help you! But first, let me in..."

There was silence on the other side. She hoped he was considering this, or even thinking about his decision in the first place.

Lucien whistled to her, catching her attention as he pointed to a large opening in the wall. "It will lead us to the jester," he explained, heading inside without her. She winced, her back searing with pain. She willed herself up, reluctantly following after her.

"Ooh! Chilly! You'll love this part, I just know it! Now, this isn't exactly part of the original Sanctuary layout. We'll just call it a 'forced addition', for now. Forced by what? He he, come and see!"

Carciniea's pace slowed down some, carefully examining the small icy cavern around them. "Luce, I have a bad feeling about this..."

"It does not matter."

There was a small opening, where a mutilated goat laid dead with several bear traps surrounding it. "What the..." She began, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. There was a strange howling sound, very close by. She gripped her dagger tightly, her eyes widening as she was face-to-face with a familiar looking troll.

"Oh, come on!" She complained, lashing a deep cut into its forearm.

The troll let out a cry, thrashing and flailing its arms wildly that knocked Carciniea onto the hard, snowy ground below. She groaned, slowly pushing herself up when the troll landed next to her, lifeless. Lucien stood above her, nodding his head to the right. She pushed herself up, catching up to him.

"Alright, alright!" Yelled Cicero, sounding as if he was in the middle of a desperate, heated argument. So Cicero attacked that little harlot! So what? What's a fool to do when his Mother is being slandered and mocked? Surely the Listener understands, no?"

"I do," she whispered to herself, following Lucien out of the small crevice and back into an actual extension of the Sanctuary. From the looks of it, this must be where the guardians gathered.

Three more appeared, two of them rushing toward Lucien as the third charged at Carciniea. She attempted to parry the ghost's attack, only for their sword to go through her dagger and land on her shoulder. She let out a cry, swishing her small dagger at them,"I can't fight them!"

Lucien let out a roar of anger, slashing the ghost into a pile of dark liquid before completely disappearing. She knelt to the ground, her arm covering her new wound, "I-I don't know how much longer I can go on..."

"Cicero admits, he thought the Listener would be dead by now. Heh. How about we forget this whole ordeal, hmm? Let bygones be bygones? Whaddya say?"

Lucien knelt beside her, resting a hand on her uninjured shoulder, "We are close. You mustn't give up now."

She nodded, picking herself back up. They came to a gate, a translucent hand coming from a nearby wall and managing to land a cut on her thigh. Lucien fought away the last guardian, while Carciniea fell and stumbled back down the steps.

"If it's any consolation, I do feel bad about harming Veezara. He got in my way, what am I to do?! But please, tell me that little sheepdog has bled to death."

She sat up, feeling a bruise swelling in the back of her head. "Okay, I admit, that did upset me. But Veezara was trying to stand up for Astrid..." She groaned, needing the assistance of a wall to stand up, "Like I plan on standing up for you."

She crawled back up the stairs, giving Lucien a cheesy grin, "Have I ever mentioned I sucked at combat? Like, there's slim chance of me winning unless I catch them by surprise." She yanked on the chain, the little gate sliding down. She was met with the final door that kept her and Cicero apart.

She laid a wear hand on it, her body as she tried hard to keep herself standing. She wondered if this was a trap, and she was falling hard.

"We have now come to the ending of our play..." Cicero said shakily. She could hear his unsteady breathing through the door. "Our grand finale!"

"Cicero please, I mean no harm. I don't want to hurt you, but if you leave me no choice... We can have each other; you and me, no Astrid, no Arnbjorn, just us. One on one. Please," she slowly opened the door, "I just want to help you."

She saw Cicero lie on the ground, curled up. Like Arnbjorn, he had his hands covering over his wound. He had the same grin that somehow managed to make her smile in return, though she could see an undertone of pain and fear beneath it.

"Oh- Oh, Cicero..."

"You caught me! I surrender! Ha ha ha ha." He laughed, as if trying to ease the tension.

She felt a corner of her mouth twitch into a smile.

"You prefer silence, eh? But of course! The Listener listens! A funny joke, indeed. Yes, I get it... I admit I attacked that harlot Astrid, and I'd do it again! For our dear Mother I would! But please, find it in your heart. Let me live, live to dance and sing. Tell her you strangled me with my own intestines!"

Carciniea personally found this to be... Excessive, to say the least. Still, her eyes locked with Cicero's pleading eyes which soon narrowed. She still had her dagger out, slowly approaching the helpless jester.

"Listener, please, reconsider-" Lucien whispered to her.

"Do what you will. Cicero has no fight left in him," he panted, hissing at her, "In the end, Sithis will judge us both."

"And judge us he shall." She slowly laid the knife at the foot of the few steps. She sat behind him, picking up his head and laying him on her lap.

"I... I... I don't understand."

"I already told you, my little jester," she chuckled softly, "I'm not here to hurt you. I want to help."

"H-Help Cicero? Truly?"

"That's what I've been saying silly," she smiled. One hand slid to where his own hand clutched, trying to pull up his shirt. His hand resisted, swiping at her's. "Cicero, please, let me take a look at it."

Slowly, reluctantly his hand moved from the dark red stained part of his jester shirt. She slowly peeled it off, to find bare skin with a deep gash as well as a couple bite marks. The bite marks look like they have barely broken through the skin, but the gash was probably what caused a majority, if not all, of the bleeding.

Cicero had already lost so much blood, could he survive the night? She stared into the wound, a couple tears slowly forming.

"Lucien," she murmured to her friend, "I- I don't know what to do. I don't know have any potions, I don't know how to use magic... I don't even have anything to be crafted into a potion, or just keep his energy up."

She ran a finger along the edge of the gash. She was no longer concerned or focused on her own injuries, feeling a few tears fall down her cheeks and land on his bare skin.

"I came all this way, just to see him die either way it went." She closed her eyes, allowing a few more tears to flow down. She felt a strange warm sensation tingle through her hand, opening her eyes to see a golden light wrap around her wrist and his wound. Slowly, the gash began to seal itself away as new, strong skin was reforming itself and over the bite marks.

A smile spread across her face, her eyes beginning to dry.

"You have magic somewhere in your spirit," Lucien encouraged her, "You just have to find it, first." She nodded, watching as he disappeared back into the Void.

"You're special," Cicero spoke up.

"Oh? Am I?"

"You hear things, more than our Mother," he moaned, "You argue, you long, you even laugh with them! Cicero thinks the Listener has a rather nice laugh, too. I remember the last time you had returned from a contract, you went into Mother's quarters. I thought you were talking with her, receiving her guidance! Cicero didn't mean to eavesdrop, really! He was just... Curious. That's when I heard you cry, heard you argue. Soon enough you fell asleep, right in that uncomfortable old chair! There I fetched you a blanket and let you sleep."

She combed her fingers through his bright hair, mulling over her words. Cicero was one person, maybe she could share her secrets with him? Even if he did tell, how many people would truly believe him?

"Yes," she nodded, "I'm afraid you're right. My closest friend, at least in this day and age, isn't really amongst the living. Once upon a time, yes. He was the best I have ever seen. And, Cicero, don't think you're not special as well."

He laughed, "Specially mad."

"Other than that. Cicero, since I got here the only good dreams I've had includes hearing your laugh. Something about you just... Makes me happy, makes me smile. That's something I haven't been in a long time. See?"

She lied down, grunting as she felt her bare back and wide cut against the icy stone ground. She slid off his hat, laying it to the side so she could play with more of his hair. Se was tired, exhausted from the trip and the useless fighting against the spectral guardians. Still, this was rather peaceful.

"My Listener?" He yawned.

"Yes, my little fool?"

"What does the Night Mother's voice sound like?"

She thought this over. The Night Mother's voice was like nails scratching on a chalkboard to her, but she couldn't say that to someone like Cicero- Someone who has longed to hear her voice for who knows how long. "She sounds like... It's more of a hushed whisper, as if she was telling you a secret. Her voice is very raspy, but that just makes it more exhilarating. Her ghost's voice, on the other hand, is more soft. As if she really was your mother."

She felt Cicero curl up against her, a satisfied smile on his face. "Tell me a story."

She chewed her tongue, a devious grin came to her face. She had an idea, wondering to herself if Lucien was still listening in on them. "Have I ever told you the tale of Mathieu Bellamont and the great treachery of Cheydinhal? Kill a boy's mother, and vengeance festers in the son..."


	9. A Temporary Truce

"Must you go?" Cicero's voice wavered. He leaned his head on his Listener's healed shoulder.

Carciniea wrapped an arm around her little jester, giving him a squeeze. "I do. I was actually suppose to be back sooner. Hey-" She picked his chin up, giving him a comforting smile. "Don't think I'm leaving forever. I'll be back to check on you and maybe have a little present with me."

"Yes, yes you're right of course. Cicero can't help but worry, after all. Always worrying and wondering, one or the other maybe both. But that Astrid- That damned wench Astrid, ohh... Promise me you won't let her defile our Mother! Anything, anyone but our beloved Night Mother!"

She chuckled at his irrational thinking, gently tussling his hair and hat. "Yes, yes. Don't get into trouble now, y'hear?" She snickered at the flustered face he made as he tried to straighten his hat, sheathing her dagger.

Cicero followed her through the corridors, his mind racing as he tried to find some kind of excuse to have her stay with him longer. "Oh, woe is me! What pain I feel in my... My, ah-"

"Quiet, fool. I've already checked your side three times, now. You're fine." They came to the exit, a cold wind flowing under the crack beneath the door and the ground. "Alright, now-" She was cut off by a grunt as Cicero clung to her tightly.

"I don't want you to leave," he quietly whimpered into her armor.

This attention she received gave her a warm feeling in her stomach, only to feel it sinking as she knew she couldn't fulfill his wish. She rubbed his back as an attempt to soothe him. "I know, I don't want to leave either. I know you don't want to be alone, but this is temporary. You have to trust me, alright?"

His hands and arms slowly peeled off around her thighs; his gaze fell to the ground as he sadly nodded his head. One hand grasped his hat, sliding it off as he managed to fit it on Carciniea head. "I don't want your ears to get chilly, now." He managed a smile.

"See? There's that smile!" She gave his elbow a small squeeze, pushing the Black Door open. "I'll stop by next time I finish a contract, alright? I'll be back before you can say Sithis!"

He nodded his head. His eyes watched as she slowly left the broken sanctuary, feeling an agonizing pain bite down on him. He turned to lean his back against the freezing cold door, sliding down slowly. He whispered to himself, using this single word as one last beacon of hope: "Sithis."

Carciniea was glad to see Shadowmere outside, mounting him. She slipped off Cicero's hat in fear of it falling off during the travel ahead, stashing it in her pocket.

"I am quite pleased you have spared the jester," Lucien spoke up. His hand grazed over the supernatural horse, a longing gaze in his eyes.

"You have to admit, I really fooled you," she gave him a wink, "Even you thought I'd kill him! But I could never- I don't know why, just something about is just so... I'm not sure."

He remained quiet, giving her a victorious silence as she arrogantly stuck her nose in the air. "Come, dear Lucien," she beckoned, "Off to... Shit, where was I suppose to go?"

"Is there a problem?" Shadowmere began a slow trot along the shoreline, heading east. Carciniea rummaged through her pocket, pulling out the small bonus Gabriella had given her, covered in lint. "Gabriella said she had a friend who did readings and that whatnot. I just can't remember..." She focused back on Gabriella's exact words before she head out on her most previous contract.

"WHITERUN!" she exclaimed, startling Shadowmere. "I think that's what it's called, anyways..."

"Ah, Whiterun," he chuckled to himself, "I believe we have yet to visit the city. It is home to quite a few famous places."

They managed to find a road that lead out of Dawnstar, every now and then a sign would pop up to help direct travelers to nearby cities. Whiterun was just south from them, now. It wouldn't have been long before they finally got there, but something about the trip was... Off. Quiet. There were no violent fellow travelers nor anything else. There was the occasional farmer and his cow, besides that they were all alone.

Shadowmere came to a sudden halt, its heading turned to the right. Lucien unsheathed his blade, trying to find any sign of a threat. There was a faint guttural cry, far above them.

"Dragons," Lucien declared, both looking up at the vibrant sky, "Don't stop moving, Whiterun isn't too far now."

True to his word, the city walls of Whiterun emerged from the horizon, a tall castle poking out highest. Carciniea continued to keep an eye on the sky, though, despite the sound becoming more faint. They entered the city, leaving Shadowmere near the stables, wondering through the city.

Carciniea plopped on a bench that sat right outside a small little shack of a house, sighing. "Come to Olava for a reading, have you? Too bad, I'm not quite in the right mood."

She turned her head to spot an old, small woman throwing bread crumbs for the birds around. "Were you talking to me...?"

"Of course, that is why you're here isn't it? For a reading?"

She scrambled her hand into her pocket, "But I have this token for you. Gabriella-"

"Gabriella, eh? I suppose I know why you're here then."

Carciniea felt her jaw drop a little bit, seating herself next to the elderly, "Is it true you can do readings? I kind of want mine read."

"Hmm... Yes, I suppose I can," Olava cupped the younger Breton's into hers, "Mind you, it's not as specific as you'd like but still. Just relax... Yes, open your mind... Just like that..."

"What do you see?"

"There's a cave. No, not a cave. A... home? A place you feel secure. You will find safety there... sanctuary. I see snow, lit by the star of dawn. And you are not alone. There are others. A child of night... a stalker of the sands? Oh, but before you are family, there will be blood...Wait! I see someone laughing, dancing into a mist of nothingness. You follow this person, leaving behind everyone you knew. You two are alone but not frightened; you two find peace in each other," Olava leaned over, one hand rubbing her temples, "I'm sorry... I think I may need to rest for a while, forgive me."

Carciniea gave a small smile, "No, thank you." She took Olava's hand and laid the small token in her hand. The woman nodded, slowly getting up to retreat into her small shack of a home.

She still remained seated, looking down at her gloved hands. She clenched them into fists, turning her head slightly to the left, "Did you get all that, Luce?"

She saw Lucien materialize from the corner of her eye. "A cryptic message, indeed. Shouldn't I be the one to ask if you understood that?"

"Snow, lit by the star of dawn... A child of the night and a stalker of the sands... Laughing and dancing into nothingness," she fully turned to him, arching an eyebrow, "That seemed more poetic than cryptic, if you ask me. By the sound of it, something bad is going to happen and that follows for Cicero. You know I can't afford to lose him."

"Why are you so protective over our little fool of hearts?" He teased a smile to her annoyance.

"I just... I don't want to feel like I'm going to lose you again," her gaze fell, her hands folding neatly over her lap, "I feel like Cicero is the start of a second chance, a new beginning even. With him, I don't feel like I have to face my past."

She noticed he held a hand out for, she took it and entwined one of her longer fingers around his. Even if people gave her funny looks or couldn't see him, she didn't seem to mind for once. She was ready to face the beast named Astrid.

She slammed the Black Door shut, heading down the steps of the Samctuary. The firs thing she saw was a sleeping Arnbjorn, who sat on the floor with his head on Astrid's lap. His cuts looked much better than in Dawnstar. She tried to walk past them and act like she saw nothing, when she heard Astrid call to her, "Carciniea." She reluctantly turned around, giving a distant, apathetic gaze.

Astrid hand paused in the middle of stroking his hair, "Arnbjorn is safe and sound in my arms, and for that I thank you. I am in your gratitude. But what of the jester? Did you kill Cicero?"

Carciniea reached into her back pocket where she placed the slightly torn, awkwardly folded hat. "I believe this should be enough verification for you," she mockingly bowed, "Your highness." She straightened her back, turning on heel to leave.

Instead of leaving to join her friends or relax, she took a detour to the far back of the sanctuary, specifically Cicero's old room. The air was cold and stale, then again it seemed this way throughout the sanctuary. She piled up all five volumes of his journals and, for once, sat down and read.

It was the only thing she ever did, other than occasionally leave the room to sneak away some food from the kitchens. She read it all over and over; capturing every detail, painting vivid pictures in her mind, picturing what Cicero was like as a child. She concluded later on he was probably very violent and hug-depraved.

Lucien would materialize every so often to check up on her, try to stray her attention away from the small journals.

"I can't help it," she laughed on one occasion after Lucien asked if she'd every pry her eyes away. "There's just something about this- About these words, their tone, their meaning..." She fell back against the old rickety bed, "It makes him seem human as the rest of us. Like someone couldn't read this and not feel _something_ for him."

"Perhaps fresh air to clear your mind? And need I remind you of the last member you and I knew who kept a journal..."

She sat up slightly, "Oh, come on! You can't possibly solely compare Cicero to Bellamont! And plus didn't you warn me that Sithis didn't wish for his death?"

"That I did," he nodded, "But it is time you put the books down for a little bit, anyhow. Looks like company is on there way..."

He dematerialized into nothingness, though the sound of footsteps echoed through the cooridor. Astrid's head popped around the corner, curious and surprised to see Carciniea down there.

"We've wondering where you've been hiding," she took a step in, Carciniea didn't even bother to look her way, "Listen, as an apology you can hold onto Shadowmere a bit longer. He doesn't get out as much as he should, plus he seems to take a liking to you. So how about we call it a truce?"

Astrid extended a hand out. Carciniea thought about this, sighing to herself as she stood up. She met Astrid's eyes, searching for any sort of trickery or deceit. She gripped the other woman's hand, confirming with a nod, "Truce."


End file.
